


My Whole Life Too

by FandomNonsense



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Blood and Injury, Domestic Bliss, Eventual Smut, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Heartbreak, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Injury Recovery, Major Character Injury, Nightmares, Non-Graphic Smut, Rated M due to one scene, Re-occuring nightmares, Romance, Tragic Romance, War, War against Grindelwald, War talk, rising war, the rest is pretty tame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2018-01-29
Packaged: 2019-01-07 19:13:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 14
Words: 37,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12238995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FandomNonsense/pseuds/FandomNonsense
Summary: She transported herself to thoughts of only him, and Tina found herself cast back to that horrific death chamber. That had been the first time he’d uttered her name, the first time he held her, the first time his green eyes locked with hers, conjuring a silent promise that still shook her to the core. Strange it was that a scenario so frightful as being sent to death was also one Tina could not bear the thought of surrendering, out of fear of forgetting the initial feeling of being in his arms.





	1. Prologue: Seven Days From Happiness

August 1927

The letter arrived that morning just as the hazy sun peaked over the crest of gray buildings, and before Tina had even pulled herself out of bed. The neatly enveloped note landed by aid of a disgruntled looking owl – it’s almond and cream colored feathers a ruffled, wind beaten mess, and despite invitation, the bird did not stay to rest from its long journey. With mindful fingers, she gently took the parcel from its animal carrier, murmuring her thanks as it flew back amid the indistinct aura of the August morning. Tina blinked after the bird, watching until its figure was lost in the yellow light until finally, with sleep heavy eyes, she marveled at the mail in her hand. A profound fissure of joy worked through her, and Tina had to bite back a smile knowing the letter was undoubtedly from _him_.

Regardless of the unwitting sensations pulsing through to her very core from holding the parcel, Tina waited to open it. The letter – _his letter_ – would remain untouched, seal unbroken, for the mere reason of having something to look forward to once her workday was over. She gingerly set it on the table, giving the envelope a longing and hopeful glance as she took to her morning routine in her usual no-nonsense way; a quick bath, a good scrubbing of her face, and a mug of steaming coffee accompanied by toast with jam. Tina did her best to ignore the letter poised readily on the wooden surface, teasing her with its familiar mystery.

 _Later,_ she prompted. _If you read it now, what will you do after work?_

Tina finished her breakfast feeling bitter and defeated by her own reasoning. However, by the time she made it to MACUSA, she was certain she should have read Newt’s letter before leaving. As if to add insult to injury, the Department of Magical Law Enforcement was experiencing an uncharacteristically slow and altogether grueling day, which provided little in the form of excitement or distraction. _Dark Arts Doldrums_ was what such circumstances were aptly called by her fellow Aurors; those scarce days when everything was right in the wizarding world - and Tina hated them. There were no pressing cases that held her interest or matched her skill level, and, had it not been for buckets of tedious paperwork, she wouldn’t have even bothered to come in. Grindelwald had been shipped back to Azkaban, and any dark arts related insurgencies where miles away from New York - leaving Tina at her desk feeling no more useful than a file clerk in the Wand Permit office.

Initially, falling once more into the Auror business had been easier and just as satisfying as placing the last piece into a jigsaw puzzle. Tina had been welcomed back with open arms and an array of congratulations for aiding in the capture of the greatest dark wizard to date. Those first weeks back in the old grind were invigorating, and Tina would have been lying if she didn’t admit that the new-found praise from her colleagues gave her joy on some level. After the hiccup that lost her the job, their salutes were a great way to boost her self-esteem and jump back into the game. Besides the lessened workload at present, Tina would be forever grateful to be back where she felt the most useful, as well as for the handful of hours MACUSA stole away from her day - now that she would be returning to an empty apartment.

When their No-Mag friend’s memories returned in slow, hazy increments, he and Queenie wasted no time in making their relationship absolute. Their secret affair rendered a secret wedding – a small celebration in upstate New York with only two guests, but copious amounts of joy and love to fill each of their hearts until the end of time. As Newt had promised in his weekly letters, he was there to witness Jacob and Queenie exchange a fluid mix of vows and rings under a spring moon, amid enchanted orbs of fairy light. That had been the last time Tina had seen the eccentric wizard from across the sea; arriving primped and polished for the occasion (to the best of his abilities), and even sporting a fresh haircut.

Before Jacob had his memories, and while Queenie was still living blissfully with Tina, Newt had shown up with a halo of tizzied hair, scraggly and wild (the way Tina liked it best), with an ill look about him, all the while denouncing the functionality of Portkeys. _“They are completely uncouth,”_ he’d claimed, in a tone that was both peeved and dismayed. His unannounced visit caused a significant and wholly unknown surge of _something_ though Tina’s very being, and she doubted she could blame it on the copy of his book that he’d brought her. When he finally risked a smile in her direction, Tina was almost positive she’d gone blind for a brief moment from his radiance.

When he’d returned a few months later for Queenie’s wedding, well-groomed and slightly uncomfortable on account, Tina had trouble hiding that same fissure of unsounded excitement. Newt hardly left her side during the duration of the ceremony, and when he unexpectedly led her in a dance beneath the stars, she was sure it was more than amicable sparks glistening in his eyes as he drank her in. It was a bittersweet occasion; Tina feeling as though her sister and Jacob were moving far too fast. Queenie’s marriage inflicted a new and dismal reality upon Tina, and that cloud swept over her, placing a veil over the jovial evening. But Newt was there with his smile, bathed in silver moonlight, to chase away all of her uncertainty. Quick as it all had seemed, cloud or no cloud, Tina could not think of a solid reason as to why Jacob and Queenie didn’t deserve the happiness they’d found. Every sliver of joy life granted them was a precious gift and Tina was better for it, knowing her golden headed sister – the little girl she’d raised – was truly where she wanted to be.

Newt waited to return to England, staying almost a week, and Tina had an inkling it was to help with the transition of life alone. She was glad for that. Glad, too, for the unyielding empathy and patience he showed on those days she was feeling bitter and melancholy. She’d snapped at him a few times and never did he question her - Newt took it all in stride, and never to heart. He’d lived alone for much of his life, and generously provided her with much need affirmation of the positive attributes of single living. Every word he’d said Tina absorbed like a sponge, hoping to hold onto his wisdom long after he was gone and she was by herself. “Maybe you should consider a Kneazle” he’d suggested. “I find that my creatures are ample company on the days I feel particularly lonesome.” She remembered giving him a soft smile at the suggestion, though she knew better. _That won’t be the same as my sister…._ she’d thought.

Tina could barely recall a time in her life when she hadn’t shared a space with someone; her mother, father and sister being the first. Then it was just Queenie, stuck to her like glue no matter how ‘The System’ tried to pull them apart once their parents were gone. The dorms at Ilvermorny slept a good handful of her classmates, not her sister, but at the very least there was someone there. After graduation – while Queenie was still suffering those last two years of schooling – Tina had a roommate to fill that void. Those two years were insufferable; her companion was a fellow colleague at MACUSA, and Tina was sure by the time Queenie was back home, she was going to hex the woman staying with her. Then after those two long years, she and her sister moved to the brownstone where they’d lived quite contently for almost a decade.

Just like the seasons, times changed; Newt ventured back to England, Queenie to Jacob’s, and Tina felt the sting of isolation for the first time in her life. It had been unsettling – a struggle even – coming home after work to an empty apartment when she was used to being welcomed by the aroma of her sister’s cooking or the lazy jazz playing on the wireless. Some nights Tina got little in the way of rest, unable to sleep in the unfamiliarity of a silent room. She missed the reverent breaths of her sister sleeping so near to her. There was no solace in the now stagnant air, and it was weeks before Tina trained herself to sleep without those accustomed sounds. Every day was easier, and little by little that dark cloud began to dissolve into a translucent mist. Eventually Tina was able to adapt to her new environment with the help of Newt’s lessons. There was a silver lining to all things, she reminded herself; learning to take the good with the bad, and to focus all her energy on the bright side. The biggest was not having to worry about keeping the shields up in her mind, which - after a few weeks of not needing them - made her realize how tiring it had been to do in the first place. It was the thoughts that accompanied Newt’s letters that she was truly happy to think freely, and that notion alone calmed her fraying nerves, knowing just how much teasing she was sparing herself from. The evenings were quieter, which Tina often used to indulge in long baths or a good book ( _his_ book) without feeling the need to entertain her sister. Mealtimes were certainly less appealing since Tina was not well versed in the magical art of preparing food, and so she greedily missed Queenie’s cooking. Her sister had made it clear that Tina was always welcome to a seat at their table anytime, but she didn’t want to impose.

That day had been no different, and after a boring day of endless paperwork, Tina greeted her mundane sandwich as if it were a feast fit for a king. She tossed it together with mirthless flair and too much mustard. Newt’s letter was precisely where she’d left it that morning, propped against her mug to greet her. She hadn’t forgotten about it, rather the opposite. Arguably, the note was the main reason for her poorly constructed sandwich, being far more eager to read his words than to fill her stomach with something so mediocre.

It was late, already dark for a summer's day, and she was tired - but an energy worked through her the second her fingers grasped at the parchment. The sensation was one she’d experienced many times, which now filled her with an alarming amount of joy.

_Dearest Tina,_

_This is a rather short letter I have for you this week— far shorter than what you are used to— so I hope you’ll forgive me for being concise. Do know that I have loads to tell you, but I’m saving all my stories to convey to you in person when I arrive next Friday…_

Tina’s chest grew suddenly tight and she reread the lines just to be sure her heart wasn’t playing a cruel game on her.

_…Much like this letter my visit will be short— a weekend stay - but I wanted to see you before I go away on my next excursion. Be well Tina, and know that I count the days until I can see you again._

_  
Newt Scamander_

A smile worked it’s way onto her lips as she finished reading, a grin so taut across her face that the muscles pulled almost painfully. The amount of excitement that fell over her was unreal; never had written word filled her with such elation. A week, _one week_ , and she could marvel at the constellations of freckles on his face; one week and her world would no longer feel empty – if only for a few days. In that moment she didn’t allow that unpleasant thought to break her smile or steel away from the enthusiasm his letter brought. Her heart was suddenly too full to cast pity on herself.

With a content and hopeful sigh, Tina folded the message, stowing it back in its protective envelope, finishing her late diner. The hastily made corn beef sandwich was dull against her taste buds, not even the overabundance of the tangy mustard garnered its usual satisfying flavor. Any other day her modest meal would have rendered some nostalgia of the meals she used to eat while her sister lived with her, but her thoughts was far from the apartment in which she dwelled. The expanse of her mind recalled only hues of blue, auburn, and green; phantom scents of herb and earth filled her senses and the warmth it all prompted made her grin.

With a yawn Tina felt the weight of her day sink and settle into her bones. Her joints cried out with pops as she ambled to her feet, causing a grimace to turn her mouth from the slight twinge of pain. The discomfort faded quickly and she discarded her trash, sweeping the crumbs from her lap as she made for her bedroom. For a moment Tina hoped to find Queenie sleeping soundly in the ever empty bed parallel to her own. It’s neatly made linens surrendered the truth, and Tina swallowed the grief that swelled in her throat. It was strange to consider _that_ a friendly response to her sister’s vacant bed, used to the sick churn her stomach often did at bedtime. A pang of selfish sorrow was much simpler to settle than the sick and heavy feeling she was used to suffering. One day, maybe even soon, Tina wished a glance at Queenie’s bed would bring her a smile and the thought of how happy she was with Jacob.

The August air was thick, hanging heavily - almost to the point of suffocation. It wasn’t a pleasant atmosphere for restful sleep, and Tina absently doubled the cooling charms in the room with a flick of her wand. She chose a simple pair of cotton pajamas, tossing her work worn clothes to a pile at the foot of her bed and making a mental note to get the washing done before Newt arrived. Before tucking herself under the thin sheet, Tina yanked at the corner of her mattress where she removed a hefty stack of envelopes held together with twine. The collection of letters were enough to press a smile to her lips, causing her dimple to crease her cheek. All at once, memories flooded over her with each letter. They had all been the highlight of her week, none so much as the newest. Its words were filled with hope and promise, and while she added it to the stack, Tina reminded herself that seven days was all she would have to wait. Seven days and his smile would greet her once more, filling her heart with rampant joy she’d never felt the likes of before knowing him.


	2. Only Fools Rush In

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgive me for not getting this posted on Sunday. I was in Ohio all weekend with my friends and too tired to move when I got back home early this morning. Fortunately this is one of the few long chapters in this story, so hopefully that will make up for the delay!

It had been the longest seven days of Tina’s life. Work had only mildly picked up, which made the bulk of her days plod on _slowly_ , but the nights were worse. She spent most of them without rest – unable to quell the overwhelming anticipation swelling in her heart. In those drawn-out days, the usual August swelter had given way to an unnaturally stormy squall that in Tina’s mind seemed to amplify the waiting.

That Friday was no different. Tina woke to the steady roar of rain striking the roof while that sheltered her, while in the distance, rumbles of thunder interwove with the sounds of the city. As she laid, eyes fixated on the ceiling, her mind should have mused how perfect a day it would be to curl up near the window with a good book and a mug of something warm. However, at present, the only thought the rain brought was the hope it wouldn’t delay his boat. Tina wasn’t sure she could last another day by herself (away from him).

She took extra care that morning as she got ready; soaking in the tub with fragrant oils (ones Queenie left behind), scrubbing away the trials of her previous day with a gentle touch so not to irritate her soft skin. The heat soothed her tight muscles as she lingered long after her fingertips wrinkled with the overabundance of moisture; her body craving a few more minutes of relaxation before her day began. She chose a light-colored skirt over her usual pair of casual slacks – with a high waist and decorative buttons. The blouse she fashioned with it was a simple white cotton garment, and she finished the look with her locket and a jacket to match.

Tina anxiously ventured out into the streets the moment she felt put together (and slightly overdressed), glad to be free of her somber apartment. Thankfully, she remembered the No-Maj umbrella she and her sister always kept for occasions where magic would otherwise be out of the question; a translucent spout that shielded her from the downpour was a little more than a curiosity. Had the weather been less uninspiring and downright miserable to be caught in without such conveniences as an umbrella, Tina may have strolled the whole way to the harbor; thus killing the excess time she knew she would regret eventually. The rain seemed to have no intention of letting up, which compelled Tina to duck into an alley a half block from the brownstone - it provided optimal coverage for the witch or wizard who needed a quick escape. She was pleased to find it barren and promptly drew her wand to Disapparate to the docks.

When she landed on shaking, uneasy feet less than a block from the harbor, she could already make out just how desolate the usually crowded area was. Swiftly, she trotted to shield herself under the canopy, folding her umbrella after a good shake. There were a handful of travelers waiting, just as she, seated sparsely throughout the area on benches; others perched precariously on the metal rail separating them from the sea. Men in uniforms stood in huddles near the customs and baggage areas, whispering among themselves like schoolgirls before they needed to prepare for the plethora of incoming travelers.

It was early yet, that much was obvious by the lack of outgoing voyagers, and Tina mentally kicked herself for being overzealous. She huffed – a roiled act of hot air – and became blatantly aware that her impetuous actions resulted in no breakfast, no coffee, nothing. The emptiness in her stomach felt like it was weighing her down, growling at her in anger, and she dispelled a beaten sigh. _Way to go, Goldstein._

With an idle glance, she considered the notion of scavenging for a café nearby where she could, at the very least buy a cup of coffee. The thought seemed to provoke the storm, as a crack of thunder burst and rattled overhead, fierce enough to dissuade her craving for the time being. A soured expression contorted her features, miffed at herself as well as the lousy weather. Tina’s eyes searched the line of available seating, finding one close by with room for herself. Next to her an elderly woman sat with her luggage at her feet and a gentle smile on her thin face. Tina paid her little mind, however, busying herself with the sea birds floating wistfully on the breeze.

“I reckon you must be waiting on your fella, huh?”

Tina blinked after realizing the old woman was talking to her. “I’m sorry?” she said, her brow raised in query.

“It’s the only reason I can think of for a pretty, young girl like you to be here so early all by herself…”

“What reason?” Tina was struggling to follow the woman’s comments, still unsure what she’d initially said.

“Your fella.” She said with sweet and somewhat dreamlike smile. “He must be comin’ in on that next boat.”

Tina stifled a nervous chuckle and scooped her hair behind her ears, not meeting the woman’s gaze for fear of her seeing the blush on her cheeks. “He’s not _my_ fella,” she recanted, and a twinge of sorrow pooled in her chest the second her words fell from her lips.

The elderly woman shook her head, with a playful line on her lips. There was a cheerful gleam in her dark eyes, swirling with life's wisdom. “My dear, that boat is coming all the way across that wide ocean from England— is he coming to see you?”

“Yes,” Tina swallowed.

The soft smile returned to the woman’s face and she nodded in a satisfied manner. “Then my bet is, he’s your fella…” she shrugged “…or at the very least, you’re his gal…”

She said no more on the matter, apparently pleased with the paradigms she’d given and turned her attention back to the sea view before them.

Tina was sure her mouth was hanging open ever so slightly, and her mind was a raging river of questions. Usually a blatant assumption about the aspects of something so personal to her, such as the woman next to her just made, would’ve rubbed Tina the wrong way. Instead, her frayed nerves latched onto the words the woman had told her, clinging to them, as though they were a valuable life source. She found herself suddenly filled with an excess of hope and longing that she’d _known_ she had been fighting back. A part of her (a large part) wanted the strange woman’s premise to be true; she wanted to be his gal, he, her fella. There had been hints in his letters that they had been exchanging the last eighteen months, subtle things - but Tina had keen senses and caught onto most of them. _Dearest Tina_ …she recalled… not just: _Tina_. That was how he’d started the last several letters to her and remained the most gripping evidence that maybe she was, in fact, already _his gal._

An almost electric jolt shot through her, causing her heart to pound against the wall of her chest in a rapid pace, as those unbelievably palpable notions took shape in her mind. She did her best to calm herself with a few deep breaths, not wanting to cause a scene even if her audience was scant.

The rain hadn’t waned, but it’s incessant torrent failed to deter travelers who started to take shelter under the overhang to wait for their ship. Some had luggage grasped securely in hand, others were simply there, it seemed, to greet incoming persons. Tina kept her sharp eyes on the horizon, longing to see the vessel that would bring Newt to her. A veil of mist and fog clouded the line where the sky met the sea; even Lady Liberty herself was difficult to make out in the haze. Time felt locked in the same obscurity as the landscape. It was as though the boat would never come, lost in a maelstrom of clouds and rain. Little did her eyes stray from the choppy, gray waters stretching out before her, unyielding in her pursuit to see him again. Patience was not her strongest suit – Queenie, on the other hand, was a master at it – but she refused to leave, no matter how loudly her empty stomach growled or how uncomfortable the wooden bench she sat on was.

In a sound that split the air, the bass call of an approaching ship rang not a minute later. The far away noise caused the crowd surrounding her to rise in a collective, avid gasp. Tina had never heard a more awe-inspiring horn – a siren call of sorts that had her fighting back the need to run to the gangplank. She did, however, stand to place herself along the railing in front of her to better watch the distant ship cut through the waves with ease.

By some turn of fate, the rain slowed to a gentle mist while overhead the dark clouds broke, creating fissures of golden sun. A fresh and welcomed warmth carried in the breeze, tussling Tina’s hair in a graceful helix. She smiled into the soft wind and the spray that kissed her cheeks (from either the rain or sea; she wasn’t sure).

A second blow of the ship's horn bellowed into the air, louder. The ship was so close now - _Newt_ was so close now. That similar compulsion boiled inside her again, and for a second time, Tina had to resist the urge to run to the front of the harbor. She did not dare to act on her errant heart, even if she _wanted_ to; it would do her little good if those feelings were solely her own. A worrisome semblance worked through her, one that Tina quickly snuffed out for the fear of it being true. She hoped it wasn’t true.

The boat's horn sounded for a final time, signaling that it was – at last – stationed in its port. Crewmembers rushed to settle the gangplanks and to see to the other chores thus insuring the safety of those disembarking. Tina watched the operation restlessly, worrying her bottom lip to the point of pain. Her foot was inadvertently tapping a rhythm in sync with her fervent heart out of both excitement and apprehension. The passengers, much to her distaste, ambled off the boat at a snail’s pace, while the men checking passes seemed to hold no regard for time, proceeding through their evaluations just as sluggishly. They were being overly thorough in their examination of luggage as well (in Tina’s opinion), causing the already stagnant line to stop entirely.

A peeved breath forced itself out of Tina’s pressed lips as her patience began to wear thin.

The elderly woman who’d shared her bench stood, and shuffled to stand alongside the witch at the railing. “Best of luck with your fella, my dear.”

Tina bit back the urge to argue once more that Newt was not _her_ fella, but instead she matched the woman’s kind smile. “Do you need help with your things?”

The older woman appeared feeble, but she waved dismissively with a quiet chuckle. “No child, but thank you for keeping an old woman company.”

A softer, more gentle smile unfurled at her eyes as she watched the old woman shuffle off into the clamor, suit case in hand. When her form disappeared in the sea of faces and bodies, Tina searched the crowd with newfound vigor but it wasn’t his face she spotted first.

Before the row of tables where men fretfully examined case after case, Tina’s eyes caught sight of auburn hair blowing in the breeze (long and wild, precisely how she liked it). The mere sight of him put to sleep months of loneliness and self-doubt; all of it drifted away, far out to sea. Her frustration collapsed in on itself in that moment, leaving a void that ardor rushed to fill. He was caught in a crowd, scooting along in his usual duck footed amble, looking somewhat irked at the amount of people so close to him. There was a firm grimace on his wide lips, which fell the moment he clasped eyes with Tina, and she smiled big and bright just for him. Quickly, his pace turned into a jog, and before she knew what had happened, he was there, throwing his arms around her, pulling her tight against his chest. Tina’s feet left the ground as he spun her happily, nuzzling his grin into the crook of her neck. Newt’s sudden amorous embrace prompted a delighted giggle out of Tina’s mouth as an overwhelming sense of adoration enveloped her.

“Oh, Tina, forgive me,” he said a little breathless, but in a dreamlike bravado that curled tendrils around her rapid heart.

Newt sat her feet back onto the ground gently, but didn’t give up his soft hold. “I’ve just missed you so.” His eyes were radiant even in the dull light of day; his irises glistened as if it were the first time he’d ever seen her.

Tina kept her arms resting upon his shoulders, and had to stifle the want to tug playfully at the hair she found at the back of his neck. Even in the murky twilight between rain and sun that fell around them, Newt filled her world with all the light and warmth she could ever need.

“I’ve missed you, too,” she finally managed.

His eyes crinkled at the corners as a beguiled expression erupted his freckled face with a smile. He never looked away from her, nor she him. Tina briefly acknowledged the whim that anyone watching would think them a pair of lovers, and suddenly she felt her cheeks grow hot. Newt lowered his hands from her waist, seeing the color riding high on Tina’s face, and stepped back to retrieve his case. She wanted to frown at the abrupt loss of him, but he swiftly remedied the anguish the moment he offered her his arm.

 _Maybe the old woman was right,_ she mused with a satisfied smile, taking his arm all too willingly.

The harbor was still a bustling mess of travelers, and neither of them needed to say how much they longed to be free from the chaos. Newt led the way with nimble strides out from under the canopy of steel and into the open air of New York City. He stopped there, on the sidewalk, glancing around with a curious smirk. The weather was much improved; Tina noticed right away, the downpour had ceased its tyranny, leaving over saturated streets.

“What would you like to do?” Tina asked him, watching the muscles in his face work his wide lips into a grand smile.

“I wish for you to show me all your favorite things New York has to offer,” he declared after a moment of thought. “All of your favorite shops and café’s— any place that brings you joy, I wish to see.”

His feather light words wrapped Tina in a whirling sense of wonder - intoxicated with his blithe demeanor. So many places rushed to the forefront of her mind, and she sifted through each of them with surgical precision trying to decide which location to introduce to him first.

“Have you eaten yet?” Tina asked, feeling her stomach grumble in protest.

“I haven’t, actually.” Newt pressed his palm to his belly. “What did you have in mind?”

She responded with a smirk, and pulled Newt along with her as she scoured the block for somewhere to eat. They found a hot dog cart nearby, much to Tina’s delight, and the Magizoologist bought them both one. They walked as they ate their meal, paying little attention to anything other than each other. Months had passed since they’d last had the pleasure of the other’s company, but it was as if no time had passed at all. Conversation blossomed, light and easy, no forced smiles or stifled laughs; they were comfortable.

Their stomachs were full by the time their idle stroll lead them to the first of Tina’s preferred sites – a bookstore, she and Queenie spent many afternoons getting lost in the sea of pages. The exterior of the wizarding establishment was cloaked by the illusion of a rundown grocery. Inside the shelves stretched from floor to ceiling, weighted down by all manner of spell books and charm compendiums; volume after volume that strained to infinity. A faint but rich smell of aged parchment lingered in the air – a pleasant scent that both inhaled with admiration. Near the middle of the store, Tina found a stack of _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ which she greeted with glee and no small amount of pride. She wandered the long aisles in a dreamlike stupor, idly brushing a delicate touch along the textured spines as she passed them. Unsurprisingly, she rediscovered Newt at the front of the shop where several owls were perched in the window. The Magizoologist was drawn to them like a magnet; the bound pages surrounding them losing their luster the moment creatures were in sight. Each owl had its name etched onto a plate decorating its perch, and Newt spoke to them as if they could really understand him.

Tina couldn’t take her eyes off of him, watching fondly as he fed the birds treats he pulled from the pocket of his suit coat, and each animal expressed its thanks in a bray of hoots and coos. Once the owls were properly fed, Tina took Newt to a number of popular wizarding spots to fill what remained of their day. First after the bookstore was the potion’s shop cleverly hidden in the back of an apothecary, then came a fashionable boutique that sold everything from Ilvermorny robes to heavy cloaks of dragon's skin. As the sun was beginning its slow decent into the horizon, Tina lead Newt to one final place that she adored: a bakery called Kowalski's.

Honeyed smells of pastries perfumed the interior of the quaint No-Maj shop. Bountiful collections of breads and sweets enveloped them. Newt quickly took to the display of creature pastries, examining them with a scientific eye and a delighted chuckle.

Jacob bounded around the counter, excitement flooding his face upon seeing the quirky Magizoologist.

“Hey, pal!” The stout baker bellowed as he pulled Newt into a quick hug. “How have you been?”

Newt didn’t shy away from the man’s embrace, in fact he returned the gesture with the same enthusiasm. “Well, and yourself?”

Jacob grinned, “Busy. Busy, and happy.”

Tina beamed at him. The joy he plainly emitted could only mean that Queenie felt the same.

Newt cast the baker a grin, the ghost of its crooked counterpart playing below the surface, bringing to life his lips and eyes. “That is so very good to hear.”

The room fell into a comfortable silence as Jacob fished in his pockets for a set of keys. “I was just about to close the shop,” he told them, giving the ring of keys a playful jingle. “Why don’t youse stay for dinner? I know Queenie would be over the moon to have ya join us!” Jacob smiled wider. “She can even tell ya the good news.”

There was a peculiar gleam in his eye that Tina couldn’t read completely before he turned to the front door.

The apartment over the bakery was simple: a two-bedroom dwelling with a moderate-sized living, kitchen and dining space. It was similar to Tina’s flat, in that the decor was clearly Queenie’s handy work. She had it primped and arranged to create a cozy utopia of patterned wallpaper, decorative pillows, and an overall feeling that radiated ‘home, sweet home.’ All the furniture was second hand at best, but her sister’s knack for household charms had breathed a new life into each chair and table, and gave the illusion of being far newer.

The trio found Queenie at the stove, wand in hand, as she prepared a meal, humming to the happy tune on the wireless. There was a new glow about her, Tina noticed right away, happily draped in domestic bliss. Before anyone could utter so much as a hello, Queenie gasped excitedly and ran to scoop her sister into her arms. Tina pulled her close, blossoming in the sunshine that was her sister's embrace. Newt was next; Queenie slid easily from her sibling’s arms and into his for a quick, friendly hug.

“Oh what a surprise!” She sang with delight. “I’ve missed ya Teenie, and you’re certainly a sight for sore eyes, Mr. Scamander.” She gave him a wink, eyeing Tina pointedly before turning back to her stove. “Sit down, make yourselves cozy. Grub should be ready soon.”

Just as promised, the meal was ready in a matter of minutes and the blonde witch swiftly gave her wand a flick and the table transfigured to sit the four of them comfortably. Tina couldn’t recall the last time she’d had food so tasty. Queenie had made a hearty roast that nearly melted on the tongue, soaking Tina’s taste buds in savory juices, while a mixture of steamed vegetables cleansed her palate. Jacob treated the meal with fresh bread that he and Newt used to mop up the rich gravy, while Tina and Queenie ate it with a spread of butter. Following dinner was dessert, Jacob's favorite strudel.

Dining once more with the three of them stirred fond memories deep in Tina’s mind of the first time they’d shared a meal, December last. There was no denying what a turning point that had been in each of their lives; forever changed all because Newt let a single creature elude him. Jacob and Queenie were a reflection of their past selves, trapped in a lover's gaze, silently singing ballads to one another as they ate. Newt’s demeanor was improved, which Tina suspected was because he wasn’t being held against his will this time. Rarely did his eyes stray from Tina too long. He looked ethereal in the flicker of the golden candle light, and Tina, too, had trouble focusing on anything other than him.

“Should we tell them?” Jacob murmured to his wife, taking her hand across the table.

Queenie grinned as wide as humanly possible, visibly bouncing in her seat from the excitement exuding from her very being. “I’m going to have a baby!”

Tina almost spit her iced tea all over the table, but managed to swallow instead.

“What? Really?” She felt her expression twist, though she wasn’t sure it if was a look of excitement or surprise.

“We just found out yesterday,” she informed them. “Jacob and I was plannin’ on poppin’ over later to tell ya, Teen, honest.”

Newt shifted in his chair to give Queenie a friendly peck on the cheek, issuing her his congratulations.

“I’m going to be an aunt?” Slowly a smile crept onto Tina’s face as the thrill steadily began to take root.

Queenie nodded, blond ringlets bouncing. “Mmhm!”

Tina lunged for her sister, swiftly pulling her into her arms, unable to force away the happy tears. A million different thoughts were flying about in her brain, so fast that Tina was sure Queenie wouldn’t be able to keep up with them all. The little girl she’d raised was truly a woman at that moment when Tina chanced a good look at her; beautiful, happy, and a mother to be. It didn’t matter if Tina felt her sister and husband were rushing things, she let the excitement flow through her, and not just for the sake of Queenie.

The remainder of the evening passed in a light atmosphere, made stronger by the couple's happiness. Time seemed frozen as they discussed possible baby names, whether they hoped for a boy or a girl, and what aspirations they had for their unborn child. Queenie insisted she didn’t care either way if it was a boy or girl, while Jacob mentioned more than once he didn’t care either, as long as they enjoyed baking just as much as he did and shared the magical gift from his wife’s side of the family. Conversation began to lull as the words turned into yawns and Newt and Tina took the liberty of dismissing themselves so the Kowalski’s could spend the rest of the night alone.

Tina took hold of Newt and Apparated them back across town to her home with ease, waving her wand to fill the room with light. A fond smirk – however, faint – pulled at Newt’s lips finding little had changed about the interior of her apartment. Pieces of Miss Goldstein (Kowalski now) still peppered the humble flat- scattered here and there – something he figured accounted as Tina’s method of coping without Queenie’s actual presence. Those seemingly trifle barbels were her security blanket, a way of keeping herself tethered to reality. A gentle, but nonetheless irritating, pang of grief worked through him as the image of Tina being alone all the time settled into his mind's eye. The smirk on his face faded into a phantom frown; she didn't even get a Kneazle like he’d suggested.

“You can sleep in Queenie’s old bed.” Tina nodded pointedly as she shucked off her jacket. “Make yourself at home.”

Newt forced a quick half-smile as he worked his long limbs from his suit coat. “Thank you, Tina.” A slight grimace worked itself back onto his features as he loosened his bow tie. “You wouldn’t mind if I went to see to my creatures— I promise to be quick.” He didn’t want to leave her alone any more than he had to.

She gave him a gracious wave of assent. “Go on. I’ll make us some tea?”

Newt felt the smile return to his cheeks. “Yes, please. Thank you.”

Tina watched him descend into his world of beasts with her bottom lip caught between her teeth. Surprisingly, the warmth he brought to her dismal apartment didn’t disappear when he did. She let loose a grin she’d been too embarrassed to show (especially to him) that she’d been fighting back all day. In his absence for those months, she hadn’t truly realized the effect Newt had on her; spending the day with him had coiled a profound feeling in her that Tina had never experienced the like of. It was so much stronger than what she felt dancing with him at Jacob and Queenie’s wedding – similar, but so much stronger.

Newt emerged from his magical case no more than a half-hour later, gracing her with a soft, sweet smile. He thanked her again as he joined her at the table with his steaming mug of tea. The work worn sight of him tickled her, and she grinned taking him in: sleeves rolled to his elbows, revealing a plethora of scars and freckles, dirt on his nose and cheek, his hair a charming messy halo. He seemed so at ease sitting at her table, content as he was with his creatures, and it gave Tina a sense of hope.

“So, how long are you going to be gone?” It was a topic they both had spent the day avoiding, but a question Tina had been itching to ask nonetheless. _A while_ she figured, anything less hardly called for a social visit.

Newt’s focus fell to his mug, wetting his lips before he spoke. “Six months.”

Tina winced inwardly.

“The Dragon Corps is requesting I go and give lectures on how to properly manage the beasts to the new recruits. I’m apparently the best they’ve ever had.” He paused to take a drink and Tina couldn’t help but to be transfixed with the muscles of his neck as he swallowed. “They’re stationed all over the world you see, and I’ve been called to each faction.”

He wore the face of a man called to serve, who’d already seen his share of the fight. When he looked at her again, his eyes were distant and his features somber. Tina valiantly tried to mask the concern flooding onto her face, though she wasn’t sure she succeeded.

“You’ll be working with dragons at least,” Tina said in the lightest tone she could muster. “Who better than you?”

Newt’s eyes were back on his mug, absently running his finger on it’s ceramic lip but he managed to conjure the smallest of smiles. The gangly spill of his hair hid most of his ruefulness, but Tina could feel it pouring from him, heavy like the rain that morning.

“It sounds far more interesting than my job has been lately,” she confessed casually, hoping to coax Newt from his thoughts.

“Why’s that?” He asked.

Tina shrugged. “Dunno. There hasn’t been much dark arts activity recently. I’m sure something will pick up— this isn’t the first time the Department has had a break…”

Newt’s expression shifted to one of confusion; his brows creased into a firm line on his forehead.

“Odd…that’s not the case at the Ministry. My brother hasn’t told me much, but with Grindlewald back in Azkaban there’s been a spike in his followers.” Newt sighed, looking grim once more. “And it’s not just England. There’s been attacks and riots all across Europe; slayings of Muggles and wizards. I’m surprised it hasn’t reached America as well.”

An altogether troubling feeling settled in Tina’s stomach at the news. The lack of action State-side was concerning; it was as though they were collectively waiting for the opportune moment to strike (she’d have to remember to tell Graves to shore up their defenses just in case). What bothered her more than anything was the fact Newt was planning to go on a half-year journey around the globe while the world was in disarray.

“Newt.” Tina swallowed, hearing the crack in her voice. “This excursion you’re being called away to - there aren’t riots or attacks happening in any of those locations, are there?”

She held her breath, waiting for his answer, releasing it only when he reached to take her hand in his. Tina suddenly felt a calming wave of safety wash over her at the feel of his rough fingertips gently brushing over her skin.

“Don’t worry, Tina,” he said, meeting her eyes. “I’m certain I’ll be fine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise that chapter three will be up next Sunday, as scheduled! Thank you all for being so patient!


	3. If You'll Have Me

Neither of them paid any mind to the lateness of the hour when they eventually migrated to the couch; Newt with one of his journals, Tina with a book. A cozy glow engulfed the humble apartment, lit only by the warm illumination of flickering candles; some floated by aid of enchantment, while others were placed on sturdy surfaces like the mantle and table. The candles had been Newt’s idea, offhandedly mentioning that he preferred writing in the softness of firelight in contrast to the abrasive sheen of false electrical light. Tina had no quarrel with the notion, though she feared he didn’t realize that in just the light of flickering flames the mood of apartment had shifted to one wholly more intimate. Even the tune on the wireless added to the atmosphere within the space, filling it with symphonic flair that complemented the swelling emotion in Tina’s heart. She bit back a coy smile purposely directed away from the work focused Magizoologist. His company was quiet, yet picturesque to behold as he scribbled notes onto the bound parchment.

For the first time in months, Tina felt the walls around her become home once more. Newt fit so perfectly, seated by her feet at the other end of the sofa; a creature constructed out of the woodwork it seemed, so comfortable in her apartment. He’d freed himself of his waist coat and braces, leaving him vulnerable but at peace with his surroundings, blithely immersed in his revisions. It filled Tina with intense delight knowing he could be so lax with her, when she knew just how much he fed off of solitude.

His presence was so consuming that Tina was rapidly losing interest in her book, choosing to glance over the top of it as often as she could. He was oblivious to her seesawing attention, or if he was aware, he didn’t seem bothered by it at all. Newt stayed fixated with his journal, shifting every now and then, always careful not to spill the inkwell hazardously balancing on the narrow armrest.

 _Six months,_ Tina’s mind taunted cruelly the moment she stole another look at him bringing a frown to her face.

In less than three days he would be gone again, half a year venturing across the muddled world. She wished he hadn’t told her about all the nastiness that was happening on the other side of the world, then maybe she would feel less melancholy about the whole thing. Tina couldn’t bring herself to beg him not go, of course, not when she knew if it was her that had been called away to serve she would go in a heartbeat. Newt was simply going to give lessons, not fight, which was a notion Tina kept a tight hold of, lest she go mad. The world was slowly descending into ruin – No-Maj and Wizarding World alike – and no one possessed the power to stop the ominous _them_ , no matter how much she wished she could.

Tina sighed, prompting a long yawn that left her feeling defeated and tired. Sleep had been a stranger as of late, which she hoped wouldn’t be the case that night. Her mind was certainly abuzz with all the dreadful 'what-if’s’ hitching to her mind, but she tried her best not to dwell on them. There was little chance sleep would come with those notions in her head. Newt was the light in that darkness, the man who’d sailed all the way across the ocean to spend his final days before duty with her. That had to mean something - if anything it was food for her restless thoughts to gnaw on as opposed to the alternatives.

She transported herself to thoughts of only him, and Tina found herself cast back to that horrific death chamber. That had been the first time he’d uttered her name, the first time he held her, the first time his green eyes locked with hers, conjuring a silent promise that still shook her to the core. Strange it was that a scenario as frightful as being sent to death was also one Tina could not bear the thought of surrendering, out of fear of forgetting the initial feeling of being in his arms.

Those stark white walls intensified by the harsh light, the sinister black potion – stagnant but fierce - the terror she felt moments before the dark liquid drowned her. All of it was so easy to recall, but for whatever reason, Tina’s mind had scrambled the details. Newt was the one on the levitating chair, locked in a trance with his blurry memories swirling beneath him, oblivious to the peril. She shouted his name but he never so much as blinked, bewitched with the images just inches below his dangling feet. Tina tried to move, but couldn’t as tears stung her eyes – held back by something or someone. She cried out for him again and again until her throat was sore from shouting desperate pleas to gods she didn’t believe in. With all her strength she fought to wrangle free from her keeper, screaming and cursing until the very moment the potion boiled and hissed, devouring Newt in a single ravenous wave. A man’s laugh filled the soundless room, bouncing off the blinding white walls and stinging Tina’s ears with its malice. Sobs caught in her throat, violent ones that made her chest ache and her thoughts no more than a pulsating blurr. Her captor gave her a slight shove, releasing her, and Tina toppled onto the cold floor, feeling tremors work through her mercilessly. The man who’d kept her stood over her, a dark mass with blonde hair and mismatched eyes. Even through her tears she knew who he was, but she couldn’t bring herself to look into his empty crazed smile, which fed on her misery. He let her lay there for what felt like eons, snickering at her agony, until with a heedless wave of his wand sent her over the edge and into the potion.

“STUPIFY!” Tina shouted, mindlessly casting the spell, nearly hitting Newt by accident.

There were tears in her eyes, and her heart was pounding rapidly against her ribcage. Tina’s eyes were red and blown wide with both shock and confusion, as sweat started to bead on her forehead. Air left her lungs faster than she could take it in, and she was suddenly light-headed. All at once, her bones felt like jelly and Newt caught her before she could tumble off the couch.

“Shhh.” He murmured, gently removing her wand from her trembling hand. “It was only a dream. I’ve got you, Tina.”

She whimpered at the utterance of those familiar words, turning to cry into the soft cotton of his shirt. Newt continued his tender caresses, combing her hair out of her face while making sure to use his other arm to hold her snug against him.

“It’s alright, Tina,” he whispered softly. “I’ve got you.”

There was practically a puddle on Newt’s shirt – soaked by her tears – when Tina’s shivering frame and frazzled nerves finally calmed. Everything was distorted in her water logged vision - she felt as though she was still in a daze, helpless and lost - but his voice drew her back to what was real, little by little.

“I’m so sorry,” Tina muttered at last, wincing when she heard her voice crack. For a moment she wasn’t sure if the apology was for the inadvertently cast spell or because she couldn’t save him. A dream it may have been, but so real, that even looking at Newt, she wasn’t sure he was truly there.

With a compassionate gentle smile, he reached out to brush the tears still staining her cheeks. Tina gasped a breath of relief – even disbelief – at the feel of his fingers brushing over her face so very delicately, and quickly covered his hand with her own if only to make sure he was real.

“You’re here?” She sounded bemused, and Newt hadn't missed it. His eyes bore deep into hers, searching them for the pain still very present in Tina.

“Yes, I’m here,” he murmured, lightly dusting his thumb over the velvet skin of her cheek where her hand held his. “That must have been one nasty dream to make you throw spells around…” He was watching her carefully, while more tears started to surface.

“It was.” Tina swallowed back the newest wave of sobs to her best abilities, replacing them with clumsy frustration. “I can’t believe I let a dream get to me like that.” She scowled into the middle distance, crossing her arms at her chest. _Mercy Lewis, you’re an Auror!_ Tina scolded herself. _You’ve dueled and fought all sorts of nefarious individuals and you let a nightmare, of all things, get to you?_

“Nightmares are completely natural occurrences, even my creatures get them — there is nothing about them to be ashamed of,” Newt told her gently, as if reading her thoughts.

Tina wasn’t convinced.

“I suffer from them myself from time to time,” he confessed. “A parting gift from the Great War.”

Tina’s stone-faced façade crumbled hearing the pensiveness in his tone, causing her sternness to fade as she looked at him – a new sadness contorting her expression. “Are they bad?”

Newt shrugged dismissively. “They are what they are, Tina— they certainly aren’t welcomed reminders of the things I’ve done and witnessed, but I’ve learned to live with them…”

He did well to mask his own sorrows, quickly urging the subject away from them with a tenderhearted gaze. “May I ask what it was you dreamt?”

Tina felt a leaden cloud consume her the moment her mind went back to those disorienting thoughts. “We were in the death chamber at MACUSA again; only it was you who was the one being…” she couldn’t say it. “…while I watched.”

“Tina…” he whispered in a tone that encouraged she stop (Newt seeing the fear in her eyes), but she continued, despite how suffocating the words were to speak.

“I tried to save you, Newt, but Grindelwald was there, holding me back and I…. I couldn’t save you!” Tina’s sobs returned though she struggled to contain them, fearing what he may think if she allowed herself to cry again. Losing Newt forever (even in dream form) made her feel hallow, something considerably worse than what she felt when Queenie had moved out. True her sister was an irreplaceable part of her and in the beginning, those feelings she experienced seemed so intense – the absolute limit of human emotion – only to find there was so much further she could fall.

The glow in the room had lost it’s convivial charm and instead made the space feel dark. Newt sensed her grief, and swiftly coaxed Tina once more to rest against him, hoping she would feel safe at ease there.

“I’m here,” he cooed, taking hold of her hand, delicately lacing his scarred fingers with hers.

Tina allowed herself to smile at how perfectly her hand fit with his, how she instantly knew as long as she had his hand to hold, sleep would be easy and free of any demons lurking in the depths of her mind.

“See?” He added, bringing the back of her hand to his lips for a soft kiss. “I’ve got you, Tina. I promise.”

*

The morning Newt was to leave was spent unrushed, lazy and without a word of how long he’d be gone. Tina had made a simple breakfast of toast with jam and scrambled eggs, along with tea for Newt and coffee for herself. Few words were uttered, the two exchanged unabashed gazes that were outwardly wistful in nature, but both seemed none the wiser. The weekend had passed in a rapid swirl of wondrous afternoons in his case, his company, his smile; while the nights where a gamble. Newt had respectfully taken to the spare bed across from her own for the duration of his stay, but he didn’t turn her away when the nightmare returned. He held her chastely, while always keeping a gentle, but firm grip of her hand as she asked.

When it came time to see him off, for Tina it was with a newfound distaste of goodbyes. The sight of him boarding the boat was a familiar one, becoming more and more difficult to witness. They waited in the crowd of voyagers, for as long as they could, neither one wanting to remember what it felt like to miss the other. He hugged her in that last moment as the horn threatened the remaining passengers of its departure. It was a tight and urgent embrace, one that left Tina with the weight of realization, she wouldn’t see him again until half a year later, and she pulled him closer. There was a veil of regret shrouding his features when they pulled apart, yet his wide lips drew into a smile just for her. Newt left her with whispered promises and a modest, but still lingering kiss to her cheek that would be forever seared into her very being.

Tina couldn’t bring herself to leave the empty harbor until his ship had long been swallowed by the horizon. There was a semblance of hope still beating in her longing heart, a seed he’d planted with his tender actions during his stay, and one she hoped when he returned would blossom.

Life for her quickly fell back into its usual (still somewhat new) routine: a cup of coffee in the morning alone, hours at work, and home again for an unpleasing, tossed together meal before tucking herself into bed, begging for sleep to take her. Her dreams were few, a notion she was glad for; it was easiest to rest when there weren’t visions in her mind. The nightmare even seemed to wane, though when it did strike, it was always the same. Solace came when Queenie would visit – radiant and absolutely glowing. Times felt akin to how things used to be, and Tina relished in those long afternoons when she forgot she was missing Newt so terribly. As the days passed, she even found more and more excuses for visiting the Kowalski’s dinner table, surrendering the need to pity herself. In time Tina no longer felt that emptiness brought about by her sister’s moving out, she simply spent less time at her own apartment; an easy fix that distracted her enough to calm the longing she felt for the Magizoologist.

 

His letter arrived exactly a week after he’d left New York by a very disgruntled looking owl. A wave of delight washed over Tina as she took in the sight of her name inked across the yellow parchment in his hand. She thanked the bird and settled to read it in the chair by the fire.

_Dearest Tina,_

_My ship arrived safely to England this morning and it was raining— fitting I suppose. This will be a quick letter as I’m off to the Ministry to procure what I’ll need for this long trip of mine. It will be an arduous task, I’m sure, since the only thought my mind has had since leaving is that I wish you could come with me. It’s been hell – excuse my language – sleeping without your hand in mine. I realize I must sound daft, but it is true. I fear this will be the longest six months of my life, especially on account that – it pains me to say – until I return to England I can only promise one or two letters a month to you. Just know that they will be much longer than this and will be a piece of me you can look after._

_You’ve come to mean a great deal to me, Tina— I’m a complete knob for not telling you in person. It is my sincerest hope that when I return to you, I will be able to muster the courage to court you properly. That is if you’ll allow me the honor. Until then, if by the end of this venture you find the moon whispering your name, know that the blame lies with me. We are very old friends, the moon and I; and often, I find myself speaking to her, murmuring tales of only you when sleep eludes me._

_Be well Tina. Please do me one favor while I’m away: visit your sister and Jacob, often. The thought of you lingering alone in your apartment is truly unbearable. I hope to have a letter to you in the coming weeks._

_Yours if you will have me,  
                                Newt Scamander_


	4. Lost Words

January 1928

Something was wrong.

In fact, Tina had known something was wrong for weeks; her intuition screaming that she wasn’t being unrealistically paranoid. Newt had never been a particularly predictable man when it came to his methods; but he was always undeniably punctual when it came to getting letters to her. In that respect he was like a well-oiled machine, never letting a month slip past him without a message finding its way into Tina’s hands.

It was no secret to anyone in her tight circle of friends that the Auror was missing her scraggly-haired Magizoologist something awful; Queenie had even taken to teasing her about the affections she held for him, not that Tina minded. She was always eager for an excuse to bring _him_ into conversation, as if speaking his name would summon him to her from some distant land. The letters he’d been sending were helping her through his absence, easily becoming her most coveted respite.

Each of his messages were akin to small novels, laced with evocative turns of phrase and intriguing play by plays of his days. The passages bled into one another, constructing choppy tales that she found more riveting than any fiction inked on the pages of an issue of “Weird Wizarding Tales Weekly." Newt had offered her a glimpse into what it was like to be amidst dragons and old comrades with his letters. But her favorite parts were not the drawn-out and obviously passionate descriptions of all the dragons he was working with, or friends he hadn’t seen since the war that he’d all but forgotten; no - Tina’s favorite parts of the letters were the subtle tender words and promises. Those texts were written in poetic prose that made her miss him even more. They were often short quips, but sweet nonetheless, always well camouflaged in his scribbling. Tina always found them.

Like clockwork she would wake (usually on a Wednesday) to the clank of some bird tapping on her window. Most of the winged creatures were owls, but on occasion, she would venture into the living room to find an unknown vibrant bird perched outside the pane of glass, with feathers that came in shades of orange and pink and gleamed and glistened brightly in the morning sun. Tina missed those mornings. It seemed there was a broken cog in the metaphorical clock. There hadn’t been a single letter from Newt in weeks; no tapping had pulled her out of bed with a rush of zeal since late October. Holidays had come in a swirl of snow and clouds without a single seasonal greeting, and Tina found herself in the middle of January without knowing why his letters had suddenly stopped.

Initially she’d let the first month pass with only slight concern, brushing it off with reasonable excuses that satisfied her practicality. When November became December and then December became January, still without one letter, Tina began to feel the merciless onset of dread start to consume her.

Newt was in trouble. She could feel it deep in the pit of her stomach.

The entire ordeal had made work an increasingly difficult task for her to focus on, which was something altogether new for her. Now most days Tina sat behind her desk amid her fellow Aurors, achieving nothing more than stares from her colleagues. The entire department seemed to sense her inner turmoil; they were used to seeing her completely absorbed in her work. Instead, she remained at her station, locked in an endless staring contest with the wooden surface of her desk while her mind trudged through every possible reason his letters could be delayed.

The workload for the Department of Magical Law was alarmingly high – rioters were being brought in daily – all witches and wizards swearing loyalty to Gellert Grindlewald. Such a spike in dark activity was more than mildly concerning, especially on account they had started around the time Newt’s letters had stopped. Tina hoped that was nothing more than a frightening coincidence; yet she could not shake the disquiet stewing inside her.

It had been a snowy Thursday night when Tina heard the gentle tapping at her living room window, and with it came a confusing array of emotions. Relief and excitement were the first to crash into her as she stood from her seat on the sofa to retrieve the owl's message. Tina tried to quell the surge of joy working through her – Newt’s letter had finally reached her, and she could feel whole again…

She threw open the window with unabashed vigor, startling the plump bird. He ruffled his dark-brown feathers as if to express his shock just as a gust of icy wind spit tendrils of flakes into the room. Goosebumps prickled on Tina’s exposed skin, and a chill rattled through her. With an apologetic smile and an inviting tilt of her head she welcomed the bird in out of the cold while taking the envelope from its beak. The owl fluttered to the back of the sofa, studying Tina with its striking golden eyes as she shut the window before maneuvering around the furniture to sit near the fire. A small hoot sounded from the creature as she idled past, as if to thank her for her hospitality.

Upon more scrupulous inspection, it became clear that the letter in her grasp was not from Newt. Tina had a well-studied collection of his messages, and as such, knew immediately the penmanship on the envelope was not his. _Miss. Porpentina E. Goldstein_ , was how it was addressed, far too formal to be from her Magizoologist; _Tina_ – he would simply put, knowing how much she disliked her full name.

All of a sudden Tina’s mouth was like a desert, and swallowing felt near impossible. No one – not even Queenie – sent her mail via owl. MACUSA did on the very rare occasion it couldn’t wait until she made it to her office, but even then the stationary was wrong. It was too domestic – high quality – but less durable than the sterile and oh-so-professional feel of the Magical Congress stationary. The seal was a simple monogram, T.S, but it still felt overtly formal in how it was addressed. Although the parcel was as light as the feathers adorning the owl waiting patiently on the back of her couch, it felt weighed down by the surely dismal news it brought.

Dread was settling into her bones the longer she lingered with the message unopened. She finally managed to swallow the lump that had formed in her throat and, with a sigh, mustered enough courage to break the seal in order to put an end to the mystery.

_To Miss Porpentina Goldstein,_

_It is with less than ideal news that I find myself meeting you in this less than ideal way. My name is Theseus Scamander, Newt’s older brother and head Auror at the Ministry of Magic. I’m sure my dear brother has mentioned me in the multiplicity of letters he’s written you; if not, then I shall have to have a word with him when this mess is all over…_

_He’s alive!_ Tina was practically screaming internally - she had to fight back the happy sobs that were threatening to pour down her face.

_…As I’m sure you’ve realized, Newt has not been in touch with you or I for several weeks—  months now I suppose. The reason being, while on passage to Italy, he was taken by a small fraction of Grindelwald’s followers. . ._

_Those_ tears – the ones of shock and fear – were harder to fight back. The mere thought of him being taken prisoner by a Dark wizard was almost too much to handle.

_…I am happy to say, with some diligent Auror work on my team’s part, the men responsible have since been taken into custody, and my brother rescued (magical case and all). He’s currently in the care of very skilled Healers at St. Mungo’s here in London, and I’m told he will make a full recovery._  
                You should know, Miss Goldstein, that you were the first person he called for when he woke up, and has since spent his days either sleeping or asking for you.  
            I hope this letter has brought you some amount of solace as well as an end to the mystery, at the very least. Newt is in the best hands, which should bring us both a little peace, yes?

_I am so sorry we couldn’t meet on a better occasion. You seem to mean a great deal to my little brother._

_Theseus Scamander_

All Tina could do once she’d read the words etched onto the yellowed parchment was cry. She cried  tears of joy because Newt was alive. She cried tears of sadness because, like her recurring nightmare, she wasn’t there to save him when he needed her. There were even tears of rage burning her cheeks, searing her vengeful thoughts into her skin. Tina wanted to know the men who took him - her Newt, the very embodiment of her happiness. She wanted to inflict the same horrors on them that they had surely shown him, and then some. Tina wanted to jump, to scream - to hit _something_ or _someone_. All of her emotions were swirling and writhing inside her like vicious beasts locked together in a fight. It was late, and she needed to sleep to be ready to work in the morning, but her snarling feelings made it clear that work was the last place she wanted to be come daybreak.

Theseus’ letter had alleviated some of the pressure of not knowing what had caused Newt to stop writing. It had also inadvertently ruptured the boil in her mind that had been swelling with dread and over-thought scenarios. Joy and rage were losing her internal fight for power, quickly succumbing to the growing sensation of anguish. Her apartment was cold again, a barren landscape of familiar objects that suddenly felt foreign. The fire had died down to an obscure glow, casting the space in sinister shadows, and with them came the crushing wave of loneliness.

Tina stood swiftly, causing the blood to rush to her head and the room to spin for a moment as she struggled to gather herself. When the spinning stopped, she shoved the letter in her blazer pocket; she had to go somewhere – anywhere. The owl flitted back to the window uttering a soft coo, asking to be let out once again. Quickly, Tina muttered a rueful “thank you” while urgently flinging the window open. The bird gave a small hoot as it flew gracefully back into the snowy sky just before Tina Apparated to the only place she knew could make her feel better. She didn't even bother to close the window behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 4 as promised! We are now in what I'm referring to as Part 2: "Shall I Stay" of this story which includes this chapter and the next 4. I know this chapter wasn't very long, but I hope it will suffice!


	5. Sister, Friend, Mother

Without meaning to, Tina appeared in the middle of the Kowalski's living room. In its addled state, her mind didn't even consider the courtesy of apparating to their front door to ask permission to enter like a normal visitor. Tina just wanted to be with her sister, even if she was being somewhat rude about it.

The room was dark and no more pleasant than her own apartment; the only noise came from the ticking clock. She winced at the lateness of the hour - half past one. It was well past the appropriate time to visit, and Tina felt as though she must have been losing her mind to disturb them so late; especially with Queenie being in a delicate state. She sighed and buried her face in her hands to keep from sobbing once more, suddenly feeling like a terrible burden. The only thought keeping her from going back to her apartment was knowing how alone she would feel.

Before she could muster the want to return to her own dismal flat, a soft white glow illuminated the room as Queenie sleepily ambled from her bedroom and into the living space. Tina's eyes narrowed at the magical light spewing from the tip of her sister’s pearl-handled wand, finding it difficult for her eyes to adjust to the stark contrast in the dark room. The gentle glow cast Queenie in a pastel luminescence, which made the slightest shiver of happiness rustle through Tina as she took in the sight of her. The sun-kissed locks of her hair were coiled into pink rollers, and her swollen belly protruded from her silk robes. There was a look of surprise, concern, and even a hidden smile contorting her sleepy doll-like features as she stepped farther into the room. 

"Teenie?" She blinked in the light pouring from the end of her wand. 

Tina couldn't be sure what emotion presented itself first on her face when she chanced a look in her sister's direction, nor was she sure which thoughts were screaming the loudest in her brain. Everything in her mind was muddled and teeming with concerns and theories that even Tina was struggling to keep straight.

Queenie's petite features curled into an apologetic frown, and her slender brows creased into a silent question on her forehead as she fished for answers in the swirling cauldron of her sister's mind.

"Oh, honey," she gave a wave of her wand with little flourish and the lights in the apartment flickered to a dim shine. Tina shut her eyes at the now harsher light, causing a single tear to escape down her cheek.

"Sit down," Queenie urged gently. "Would you mind if I read the letter?" 

Mechanically, Tina removed the newly crumpled parchment from her pocket and handed it to her sister, keeping her focus locked somewhere in the middle distance. She couldn't bare the risk of letting her sister see her so broken, on the very cusp of crumbling to pieces right in front of her. She was the 'tough one' Queenie would brag, 'the career girl' and 'the Auror.’ How could she uphold that idealistic merit if she let a letter break her? Being with her sister did allow Tina some small increment of solace; it was better than being alone in her own apartment, at any rate, but still she found herself too shaken to look or speak to Queenie. Tina had always been grateful to have her sister, a small fraction of the family that was. Queenie was not only a sister to her, but a best friend, and, when the occasion called for it, a mother; in that moment she was all three.

As Queenie read the letter she motioned absently towards the stove, bringing life to the kitchen utensils in order to prepare hot cocoa. The enchanted objects drew a faint smile onto Tina's lips, knowing then that Queenie wasn't even slightly put off by her unforeseen intrusion. 

When her sister reissued Theseus' note the same puckered brow remained, joined by a new air of hurt. "How come you never mentioned Newt hadn't been sending any letters?"

Part of Tina knew that would be Queenie's first question, since Tina had managed to keep every thought pertaining to the entire ordeal hidden well behind her Occlumency shields. 

"I'm sorry," Tina shrugged apologetically. “I didn't want to worry you." She eyed her sister’s round belly. 

Queenie glanced down to her swollen middle and tenderly gave it a rub. "We coulda handled it, couldn't we?" She asked the bump. "You wanna make sure Aunt Teenie is happy too, don't ya?” 

Tina couldn't stifle the soft laugh that worked past her lips, and she felt it was a welcomed reprieve from the tears she’d been fighting. Affection flowed in rich waves from her sister like golden rays of the sun; the same warmth resonated from her very being, casting Tina in a new light that melted the ice forming around her. 

From the nearby kitchen, a steaming mug floated into Tina's grasp. She thanked her sister for the oddly comforting beverage and eagerly took a sip. The smooth, rich taste melded into her senses, and she felt the air around her shift momentarily to a peaceful serenity.

"Queenie, doll? Why're you outta bed? Is the baby okay?" Jacob asked, sounding panicked as he came wobbling into the room, eyes heavy with sleep. He stopped when he spotted Tina and blinked twice as confusion drifted onto his face like ominous storm clouds in the sky. 

"Tina?" His brow hoisted high onto his forehead, looking to his wife for some sort of explanation. 

Queenie stood slowly, steadying herself on the back of the sofa before walking over to her husband. 

"Go back to sleep, honey," she encouraged him with a tender kiss to his cheek. “I’ll tell ya in the morning, right now Teen needs me." 

"Is everything okay?" Tina heard him say, still able to picture his creased brow and worried expression without having to look at him. 

Queenie replied with a gentle, "It will be." 

Tina hoped so. Simply because the healers were under the impression their patient would make a full recovery did not guarantee it. She and Queenie were given the same promise when their parents got sick. The promise of new ways to treat the virus filled her young mind with so much hope, but there'd been no amount of sugar-coated words that could dull the pain those broken promises inflicted when she lost her parents. Newt, she knew, would be worse.

"Teenie, you can't think like that." Queenie mumbled gravely when she returned to sit on the couch next to her sister. "I'm sure Newt's brother wouldn't have written unless he was absolutely certain he would make a full recovery." She paused to study the look on Tina's face before going on. Her frown deepened upon finding just how much pain was hidden under her sister’s valiant facade. "Teen, please talk to me. I can barely pick up anything coherent in your head... and I'd rather you tell me anyway, you know that."

Tina felt her sister’s hand on her arm, her thumb rubbing soft, calming pressure onto her skin through the thick layers of her clothing. The room was silent once more, with just the tick-tock of the mantle clock to fill the void as she struggled to muster cohesive words. When she finally spoke, the words spilled from her mouth in a foreign timbre that Tina didn’t recognize. 

“I just feel so helpless, Queenie. I’m not used to that…” the other woman nodded slightly, knowing her sister wasn’t wrong; Tina had always been a capable witch. “…If I had been there when he got attacked, I could have done something!”

Tina suddenly felt the stygian cloud of that haunting nightmare spread over her, thick and strangling. The sting of ice built up around her again, and it wasn’t until Queenie broke through the sinister shroud, pulling Tina’s hands into her own, that the daze receded back into the depths of her mind. 

“You _can_ do something.” Queenie smiled softly, causing the ice to melt once more. “Go to him. Surprise him!”

Tina finally managed enough spirit to meet her sister’s eyes for the first time the entire night. They were blue and beautiful, as always, and gleaming with a hopefulness that she envied. 

“Remember how happy Ma and Pa were to see us when we’d visit them after they got sick? Ma used to say we was the best medicine she could ever get!” 

The bittersweet memory brimmed Tina’s eyes with moisture as she easily recalled those last few moments she had with her mother and father. Words were stuck in her throat again, but she nodded urging her sister to continue while she fought off a new wave of tears. 

“Go see Newt, Teenie. Be his medicine. It was _you_ he asked for when he woke up - not his brother, but you. Going to visit him will do you each a world of good!”

“You think so?” Tina choked out around a wannabe smile. 

“I know it.”

Queenie gently tucked a few stray hairs behind her sister’s ear, flashing a wide grin. “If it was Jacob, I’d have already left, honey.” She gave her sister a knowing look, wiping a tear from her cheek. “I ain’t gonna stop ya.” 

Once the seed was planted, Tina needed little convincing. An unforeseen wave of relief crashed into her so violently she thought she may tumble off the couch. She flung her arms around Queenie muttering weepy “thank you’s”, holding her as close as she could without disturbing her unborn niece or nephew. 

“I’ll see if I can’t arrange a pass to go by Floo in the morning,” Tina said with a fresh bravado. Despite being scheduled to work come the morning, Tina wanted to be where she was most needed for both her sake and Newt’s, and that place was St. Mungo’s in London. 

“That sounds like a grand idea!” Queenie nodded, “And in the meantime, stay here. I dread the thought of you all alone in your apartment right now. You should be with family.”

Before Tina could argue that she was feeling much better about the current situation and figured she’d be able to venture home without too much trouble, her sister gave her a stern glower that meant there would be no changing her mind on the matter. The younger woman hauled Tina to her feet with a surprising amount of strength and, with a wave of her hand, gestured for her to stand aside. Like the utensils had in the kitchen, the living room sprung to life with a fluid swish of Queenie’s wand and the furniture took to rearranging itself in the space, leaving a wide gap in the middle. With one last flair-filled wave, the sofa they had been sitting on transfigured into a rather cozy looking bed. 

“There,” Queenie grinned, looking pleased with her work. “I’ll have Jacob make you a big breakfast in the morning while I go pack you some things for your trip.” 

“You don’t have to do that, Queenie.” 

“I don’t mind,” she chirped with a soft half shrug. With another idle wave of her wand, Tina’s work clothes went away, transforming into soft cotton pajamas. “Now, you get some shut eye. You’ve got a full day ahead of you!”

As if on cue Tina yawned, feeling all at once the weight of her conflicting emotions sink into her bones. Tired didn’t even begin to express how she felt – exhausted was better – and she was all too willing to climb under the heavy duvet. Sleep she welcomed openly, begged for even, for it was in sleep she had seen Newt during his absence. His freckles – like a star-filled night sky painted onto his face – the bird's nest of auburn hair she so desperately wanted to run her fingers through, the dashing grin – full lips, and shine in his olive eyes – those were the fondest parts of her dreams. They occupied that missing piece of her until she could hold him again. She hoped beyond hope that her night would be spent in hues of blue and green instead of the stark white and vividly contrasting black of the death chamber; watching helplessly as he died before her, always out of her reach, and always at the hands of Grindelwald.

Queenie tucked her sister in, sweetly whispering a goodnight before using her wand one last time to douse the lights. Tina’s eyes stayed locked on the patterned ceiling above her, following the designs with heavy-lidded glances until sleep finally took her. She was grateful for the quick release of unconsciousness, letting her frazzled mind rest was the best thing to happen since the letter had arrived. No dream or nightmare greeted her that night. Her head was vacant as she slept; a black void of nothing that was both a relief and a curse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love writing interactions between Tina and Queenie. Their relationship is one of my favorites about this fandom. Brotp for the win! Those of you sticking with this story are greatly appreciated, so thanks. There is still plenty to come with this work, and I'm in the process of writing the ending; which is proving to be arduous, but it's coming along slowly.


	6. Two Requests

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry I didn't get this posted yesterday as planned. My weekend was crazy and I'm lucky to have found time today to post this before going back into work. You've all, always been patient and wonderful readers, and I appreciate that!

MACUSA was its usual rush the next morning when Tina found her way to Graves' office; no floor so engaged as the Department Of Magical Law. She knew why, of course; it was all over the papers. A group of Grindelwald's followers had attacked a coastal village in Connecticut; nine dead No-Maj's, two wizards, and a horde of townspeople who would need Obliviating. Needless to say the Department had its work cut out for them, which made Tina more than somewhat apprehensive about leaving. The Aurors were stretched thin already, and with her away, even for a couple of days, it would surely put more pressure on the entire staff of her Department.

Tina sat in the solitary chair outside her boss' office like a kid waiting for a scolding by her headmaster. Her focus was distant and nerves fueled her body, making one of her legs bounce pensively in place while she waited for her turn to speak to the head of the department. Despite her unquiet leg she felt oddly calm, as if all her anxiety had gathered into that one part of her. She’d tried to stop it, holding it in place for a few minutes, but the leg always went back to bouncing. 

Jacob and Queenie had proven to be gracious hosts to her in her time of need, something she would forever be grateful for. They woke her with a promised breakfast of cinnamon rolls made by her skilled brother-in-law, with fresh fruit from the market nearby. Neither of them left her all morning, joining her at the kitchen table, also enjoying the meal as well as the company. All the previous night's ills had vanished in the wholesome conversation that morning. Queenie's radiance had increased tenfold in the bright January morning that spilled through the shears covering the windows, and Tina let it absorb some of her trepidation.

She had just finished her second cup of coffee when her sister gifted her a well-stocked trunk of necessities. The worn but sturdy looking trunk was no larger than a deck of cards, but her blonde sister assured her that it held an array of garments and toiletries; even packaged treats from Jacob's bakery kept fresh with stasis charms.

"A simple _Ingorgeo_ should do the trick," Queenie instructed as she handed it over with an excited smile. "Flooing shouldn't bother or disrupt any of the charms on it, neither."

Tina knew for certain by the time she left both her sister and Jacob were tired of hearing the words "thank" and "you" in the same sentence. However, she could not help herself. There wasn't much more she could do, and, to a degree, saying those little words made Tina feel better about being so distressed.

The walk that morning to MACUSA was tranquil and almost meditative for her; the sun was shining high overhead and the cool air invigorated her senses. The crisp breeze was cool on her exposed skin – blistering the tip of her nose and cheeks as she walked against the wind. The sun's rays were warm against her back though, heating the gray wool of her long coat as she worked her way through the crowds of the New York streets. Tina let her mind roam that morning while she ambled across the damp sidewalks lined with snow, trying to conjure a story to sell Graves when she had an audience with him. A considerable number of excuses presented themselves in her mind, all of which she knew would never compare to the truth. Graves had keen senses and lying was not Tina strongest suit; he would see through her fib as plainly as through a pane of glass. Lying would also make her out to be a fool, something she was not going to do.

With a sweeping glance Tina realized the hall she sat in was void of any clock that could tell her just how long she had been waiting. Less than an hour, she figured, but longer than she expected. The department head was a busy man, perhaps even more so than Madame Piqurey herself. The metal chair she was perched on was becoming less comfortable the longer she waited, which only added to her all-over turmoil. Tina tried to occupy herself by idly watching colleagues pass by, picking up vague bits of various conversations, until she grew bored with that.

_ I guess I could've brought some paperwork along to do – s _ he mused with a sigh as a man ran down the corridor with a hefty stack of work in his arms. _Probably wouldn't have been able to focus on it, though._ Tina nodded, agreeing with her inner voice. Newt was the only thing she could focus on if she was being honest with herself. The image of him was seared so deeply into her mind's eye that she doubted it would ever truly be able to leave her. On top of those scenarios -good, bad, and outright horrible - were all playing in her mind , warping her reality into one of her twisted nightmares. _What if Theseus sent another letter this morning, and I missed it? What if this time it's terrible news? What if... AGH! Stop!_

Tina felt her jaw clench and she pinched the bridge of her nose _hard_ until all of those thoughts were drowned out by pain. The morning calm had dissipated somewhat with such savage thoughts, but Tina managed to harbor a small portion to keep herself from drifting out to sea. She wished Queenie was there; some beacon of hopefulness to tether herself to until everything was over and Newt was well again. It wasn't that her sister didn't want to be there while she waited alone; the issue stood with the fact being Queenie was pregnant with a No–Maj’s child. Early October was the last time she had been able to set foot into the Magical Congress building without drawing attention to her swollen middle. There were ways she could’ve camouflaged the bump, of course - charms or enchanted robes - but those always came with warnings, and Queenie wasn't about to harm her baby for the sake of her job. Whatever excuse she'd given for such a long absence was working, and Tina hoped she would be half as lucky asking for time off.

Another 15 minutes passed (not that she was counting) before the art deco embellished door of Perceval Graves' office swung open. Tina jumped, sitting so close to the sudden movement, and looked up from her nails she had been anxiously picking at. Two older men dressed in jaunty attire accompanied her boss into the hall and shook his hand before continuing down the corridor without paying her any mind.

"Tina?" Graves snapped, sounding a little surprised when she stood to greet him. "Is there something I can help you with?"

Tina swallowed thickly, meeting his dark eyes firmly. "Yes, can we talk for a minute or two?" Her heart was beating rapidly, but he didn't seem to notice her nervousness.

"Certainly," he swung his arm over the threshold, gesturing for her to enter his office. "I have a few minutes before my next engagement I believe I can spare."

Tina had only been in his office one other time; when he interviewed her to become an Auror. The four walls made a seamless square and appeared to be made solely of trophy case-like shelving. Not a single thing was out of place; the entire room was ornate and pristine – just as she remembered. There were no windows lining the wall; instead bright lights hung overhead to light every inch of the perfectly geometric room. The glaring lights, however, were not enough to take away from the overall saturnine atmosphere of his office.  

He waved the door shut behind them with ease, simultaneously motioning for her to sit in the expensive leather chair opposite his ebony desk. "What do I owe for this unexpected visit, Miss. Goldstein?" Graves leaned casually across his desk from where he sat, forming a steeple with his hands.

"I have a request… two requests, actually," Tina started, surprised at how well she managed to keep her voice from cracking.

Graves raised a dark brow. "Go on." His face was immensely neutral, which was somewhat reassuring.

"I um, need a couple of days off, as well as permission to Floo internationally." Her words spilled so quickly from her lips even she wasn't sure she'd spoken correctly.

By the new look on his face, Tina knew he’d understood; his eyes had blown wide before falling into a faint glower.

"Where is it you are wanting to go, may I ask?" He asked, coolly.

"London."

"I see..." The line on his forehead grew deeper as he withdrew into his thoughts. The fresh crease made him look much older than he was, as did the new gray streaks in his raven hair. Tina knew the reason for the lines on his face and the circles under his eyes, as well as the reason why he now walked with a bit of a limp. Everyone knew, but his time as Grindelwald's prisoner was not something he cared much to talk about. The effects were already plain to see, and she tried her best not to stare, knowing it would only make the situation worse.

"Are you aware that you are one of the best assets this department has?" Graves queried, his tone still collected.

Tina only nodded, biting at her lip. 

"Are you also aware of what happened last night?"

"I am."

There was a long pause that seeped into the room, creating a sickly, unpleasant atmosphere. Graves ran a hand through his tidy hair. "If these attacks get any worse – let's just say, at this moment, we need all the Auror's we can get." Another pause, then he sighed. "I can't let you go, Goldstein. Not right now."

Tina frowned, and felt her stomach flop grossly as the sinking feeling she had the night before returned. "But sir…"

Graves shook his hand, waving a hand to keep her from saying anymore. "I'm sorry. You're going to have to reschedule this random trip for a time when dark wizard's aren’t wreaking havoc. I will not allow it." his words were bone-chilling – _final_ – when he stood to walk her to the door. His features were stuck between the neutral air and the rigid scowl he often used to get his point across.

Tina stood, obeying his silent order, but was not about to leave. Rapidly, she mustered her fiercest glare and cast it his way, which got his attention immediately.

"Mr. Graves, sir. I am not requesting time off-- especially now, knowing the state of things, because I want a break from the office." To her displeasure, by the end of her rant Tina's words had lost most of their steam, but Graves was still listening.

"Is that so?" He asked, tilting his chin in challenge.

"Yes,” Tina said firmly, getting a second wind. “Newt Scamander, you might remember him, sir. He was the man responsible for figuring out that you weren’t you. Which means that he is also the man responsible for the team that went searching for you…” Graves’ face fell to his polished shoes the moment Tina brought up such a sore topic. That wasn’t initially part of Tina’s plan, knowing he did not like discussing that time of his life, but she needed some way to express the importance of letting her go. 

"… They took _him_ this time." He met her eyes, rigid demeanor gone. "Grindelwald's followers took Newt and held him until his brother managed to find him and take him to the hospital. I received an owl yesterday from his brother telling me all about it."

Tina felt tears brewing behind her eyes, but she wasn't entirely sure if they were due to her irritation or the return of that sinking feeling. Nevertheless, she fought the tears gallantly, attempting to maintain the strong persona she had gathered. There was a long moment of deafening silence that threatened to crumble Tina’s fragile composure. The neutral expression was gone from her boss's face, although he cast his focus back to his shiny brogues before she could read the look his features held then.

"Theseus sent you this letter?” Graves asked, turning his eyes upon her.

Tina nodded. "You know him?"

"I met him very recently. Admittedly, he did make mention of a missing brother." He frowned. "I simply never made the connection to the relation."

Tina wanted to punch him. He'd known that Theseus' brother, a Scamander, was missing and didn't even bother to look into it. Had he, Tina could have been the one to save him, instead of showing up by his hospital bed feeling useless.

"I will allow you to go, on the condition you are back here first thing Monday morning, _working_." Graves stressed the last word and she got the inkling he was aware of how she had been slacking.

"Of course, sir." She tried not to sound over excited.

The look on his face softened when he spoke again. "You must also give Mr. Scamander my thanks for the part he played in helping me."

The sincerity in his voice made Tina smile. "I will," she promised.

With a mirrored expression, Perceval Graves opened the door of his office, and motioned for her to be on her way.

"Go, before I change my mind. I'll have a pass written up, signed, and sent to the floo attendants."

"Thank you, Mr. Graves." Her lips pulled into a taut grin, not so much for him, but out of relief.

He nodded in slow reply as she walked into the hall, and she caught the smallest flicker of remorse in his dark eyes. Most would have let the blunder pass, but Tina had to wonder if his change of heart had to do with knowing some semblance of what Newt must have been through. The notion wasn't a pleasant one to swallow, but swallow it she did. The circumstance on his end was grim, but Tina was glad it prompted him to change his mind.

With quickened pace her feet eventually brought her back to her desk, strewn with a mix of empty coffee mugs and unfinished case files. An unusual sight for her workstation; rarely did she let the space suffer as she had recently, preferring a tidy working area clear of superfluous debris. Although she initially sighed upon seeing the state of her desk, it was going to have to wait a while longer to be remedied. Tina quickly reached for a quill and piece of parchment to inform her sister when she would return. The words were scribbled when she reviewed her work, a pesky result of the shake in her hand that still had yet to fade.

Any other day she would have re-scribed the message. Instead Tina rolled the small strip of paper into a tight coil and slipped it into the leather strap attached to the owl's leg by her desk. The bird issued her a soft hoot as it flew away without need of direction. She lingered only a few moments by her desk, watching the feathered creature as well as the busy department around her. She gave them all a silent salute, wishing them luck and safety while she was away, as well as the hope that extremist attacks would hold off until she returned. A long goodbye, solely for her sister, drifted into her thoughts - all the while wondering if there was any chance Queenie had heard her from so far away. Tina hoped she could. Soon an ocean would stand between the two of them; a barrier Tina doubted her sister’s powers could breach. Jacob would take care of her, a fact that left Tina feeling surprisingly at ease with venturing so far away.

As her mentality shifted away from good-byes and to preparing herself for the rigorous effects of flooing, a memo, folded in the shape of an eagle, flew and landed on Tina's desk. The paper bird glanced at her for only a second before disenchanting back into a flat piece of parchment, and a thimble appeared on top.

_ This portkey will take you to the hospital in London. _

The note read.

_ I've used it a number of times. Simply slip it onto your finger when you are ready to leave, and return. Portkeys are not the greatest method of travel, I assure you, but they are quite useful in situations like this. Flooing requires too much paperwork, and my hands are full as is; I'm sure you understand. _

_ Do not abuse this power, I expect it back when you return. _

_ P. Graves _

Tina eyed the silver thimble with a heavy line on her brow. She had never traveled by portkey before. They were hard to come by, and most were illegal. At the very least, she did know they were far less abrasive than going via floo, but more nauseating than apparition. The biggest upside, she supposed, was that the inanimate object would get her exactly where she needed to be. With a curious glance she took the tiny magical object in hand to study it. To anyone's eye the trinket seemed to be nothing more than a rogue piece of sewing equipment. It didn't glisten with mystic properties, or feel any different than its No-Maj counterpart, yet it supposedly was woven with powerful transportation magic.

Tina's thorough examination of the rudimentary bauble had piqued the confused interest of a handful of the people around her. _Probably best to use it in private_. She advised herself, recalling the part of Graves' memo about not abusing the power, which she translated into meaning "don't let others see you use it."

Quickly she cast the knickknack into the pocket of her long gray coat where her shrunken luggage waited. The mundane gesture dissuaded the raised brows, and her coworkers went back to their own business.

There were only a small number of non trafficked areas in the monstrous MACUSA building, one being the lady's toilets on her department’s level. True, it wasn't the most inspiring place to begin her journey – a fact she was willing to overlook – however, it was, for the most part, vacant of a witch or wizard that might ask questions. There was the small inconvenience of the attendant, the lazy house elf by the name of Gretchen, though she was easily thwarted since she spent most of her time snoozing. Tina had to stifle a pleased chuckle upon finding the creature sound asleep on her stool by the sinks; the witch almost couldn't believe her luck.

With a final glance over her shoulder, as well as a heavy leer to Gretchen (to make sure she was still sleeping), Tina removed the innocent-looking thimble. The tiny cup of tin rolled in her palm absently as she stood, feet feeling as though each weighed a ton, building up the fortitude needed to use the magic it held. All of her trepidation had been leading up to that moment; she stood at the very threshold of seeing Newt again. The walls of her chest thrummed quickly in rhythm with her anxiously excited heart.

"I'm coming, Newt," Tina murmured in a steady release of breath, and with crashing waves of courage, she slipped the thimble onto the tip of her finger with ease.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only 2 more chapters in this to finish up this part (chapters 1-3 was part one, 4-8 is part two, part 3 i believe is 3 chapters, and part four is still up in the air). I've still got plenty of content for this story. :D Thanks so much for sticking with it!


	7. Purge and Drowes Ltd

Traveling with the aid of a portkey was commonly revered as uncomfortable, ill advised, and completely uncouth, and Tina at last knew why. Whether the magical device was convenient or not was beside the point; it was as though an invisible hook of colossal size had pierced her through the middle and yanked her with a force akin to flying on a broomstick. The vile sensation was similar to Flooing when she gave it a thought, but Tina was almost certain when her feet met solid ground she was going to be sick. Never had any form of magical transportation left her feeling like all her insides suddenly needed to be on her outside. Tina would sooner duel Grindelwald himself then to go through that uncomfortable rush again. Her looming bought of nausea prevented her from keeping her eyes open while the portkey did its magic. Everything flew by too fast, and the lot of it was distorted, which was enough to set many a stomach into a frenzy.

In what felt like several gut churning minutes (but only a matter of a few seconds) Tina found her feet atop dark-gray cobblestone. The abrupt cold outside air around her swept over her sweat-covered brow with in icy sting that sent a chill rustling down her spine. Instantly she yanked the wool fabric of her coat tight around her slender frame to battle the frigid weather. She held her position for a time, clutching her arms across her stomach for both warmth as well as what was proving to be a futile attempt at keeping her breakfast down. Tina’s jaw clenched hard enough to hurt, forcing the wretched bile into submission; she had no desire to clean sick off herself even if all it would take was a quick spell. Newt was so close to her. She could practically feel his presence, and the mere thought of his smile deterred the nauseous swells plaguing her. All the sickness subsided, and with a couple of deep breaths, she was off.

The enchanted thimble had planted her at the end of a bleak alley, with little indication to show her how to find Saint Mungo's. Graves’ note had said the portkey would take her exactly where she needed to go, yet the narrow side street was hardly a place for healing.

With a couple measured steps, and still feeling the aftereffects of her trip, Tina ambled to the main street 100 or so feet in front of her. Much like New York, London's sidewalks were plentiful with unsuspecting No-Majs going about their daily lives. Tina found a strange sense of quiet in that minute detail, knowing that this part of the world wasn't so different from her own. She lingered at the mouth of the alley, waiting for a break in the passing people to jump into, as her inquiring eyes scanned her surroundings. To her right was a No-Maj building with peach colored awnings that looked to be some sort of café or eatery, while to her left sat a large and derelict brick-faced building. From the neglected dummy display in the window, the structure appeared to be an old department store. _Purge and Drowes Ltd_. was stenciled in flaking paint across the large window. Tina ambled slowly along the exterior of the building, studying every crack and pane of glass with investigative precision. The rundown guise was an obvious ruse, she'd always had a knack for deciphering which impoverished buildings were true to the eyes and which were a hoax. Magical façades were always fabricated almost to a fault. To a keen wizarding eye, they always looked false – random for the sake of being random. Every cracked brick was split with almost artistic flourish, while every broken window conveniently was on a level too high for someone to climb through. The staging was perfect for No-Maj eyes, but to Tina the building may as well been glowing with magical enchantments.

The hardest part of a bewitched building was casually figuring out how to get inside. She tried the door first – logically – only to find it locked. A scowl creased her forehead as she glanced along the storefront, noticing it was all brick and windows.

"How in the name of Deliverance Dane do I get in there?" She murmured, mostly to herself.

"What is your ailment, ma'am?"  A voice said from the large window display.

Tina jumped hearing the sudden voice, feeling her heart quicken immediately.

"Who said that?” She peaked through the dirty glass, seeing nothing but shadows and undressed mannequins.

"Why me of course, ma'am," the dummy closest to the door said in a female voice. "Please, what is your ailment?"

Tina's mouth hung agape as she leered up at the usually inanimate talking body behind the glass. Not a single passing No-Maj seemed to have any idea the dummy was speaking; neither did they seem to notice her speaking to it. That was good, she figured, and turned back to face the window.

"I’m not sick," Tina told the mannequin. "I've come to see a patient."

A long moment passed with the unnerving false eyes of the charmed statue boring into her while she waited for some sort of reply.

"Very well," the mannequin finally decided on. “You may enter through the brick window."

It motioned to the other side of the door, where a suspiciously door-shaped area of mismatching masonry waited.

"Thank you," Tina told the dummy, feeling somewhat silly thanking a store mannequin.

Despite being raised in a world of magical oddities, the concept of running headfirst into a seemingly sturdy brick wall was outrageous. MACUSA had a few similar entryways, but Tina made a point of avoiding them simply because she feared missing it all together and hurting herself. The door before her made her feel no different; Tina glared at the off-colored bricks as if to intimidate them, and with a sharp intake of breath ran for it.

The interior of the dilapidated building was screaming with bright light, white walls, and robed healers going about their duties. The space was relatively open with designated waiting areas, while a hall to her right was marked by a sign reading _Artefact Accidents_. Towards the center of the atrium-like room a large crescent-shaped desk with the word _Inquiries_ across  it, with a receptionist.

Tina quickly crossed the polished floor and was greeted kindly by a witch at the desk.

"Patient or visitor?" She asked with a gentle smile.

"Visitor, I’m looking for Mr. Newton Scamander?"

The woman drew out her wand and waved it gracefully at a cabinet, causing a file to pluck itself out of the open drawer and land in front of them. Tina couldn't help but to crane her neck to try to sneak a peek at the extent of his injuries written in the file, but the woman sealed the folder too quickly.

"Mr. Scamander is on the fourth floor: our Spell Damage ward. You may take the lift behind this station, speak to the receptionist you’ll find there, and she will take you to his room."

The woman had barely finished speaking when Tina ran for the elevator bank in the rear of the building, casting a thank you in the air for the woman who helped her. The attendant issued her a soft smile as he asked which floor she needed. She anxiously eyed the dial over the doorway, counting the floors as they passed in nonverbal mumbles. The lift moved steadily, however much too slow for her liking. By the time the arrow rounded to four, Tina was already pushing the gate open against the attendant's instruction.

Another level of white halls and blinding light met her as she stepped off the lift. A horseshoe of rooms surrounded her, lining three of the four walls with private cubicles. A similar reception area sat in the middle. The young woman working the desk was speaking (more like flirting) with a tall, broad-shouldered man leaning across the counter. The two of them were locked in convivial conversation, which consisted mostly of giggles from the receptionist and debonair smirks from the man.

"Excuse me," Tina tried, keeping her tone calm despite being ignored. 

The couple dissolved into a fit of coy laughter, and Tina's lips pressed into a hard line. She had not traveled halfway around the world via arguably the most unpleasant of methods just to be ignored; if she had to, she was prepared to visit every room in the entire ward just to find Newt.  

"Hey!" She nearly shouted, a fissure of irritation spewing into her tone. 

The annoyance drew both the man and the woman’s attention, to which Tina issued them both a sour expression before getting to business. "Could you please tell me where I can find Mr. Newton Scamander's room?"

The woman behind the counter shrugged, feigning pity. "Visiting hours ended already, you'll have to come back tomorrow."

Tina was sure she frowned, but that didn't stop her from glaring at the woman across from her. The man standing at the counter turned to face Tina with a brow hoisted far up on his forehead. At first glance, the stranger held a striking resemblance to Newt – they both had the same jaw, hair, and freckles, however the man in front of her was slightly older.

"How, may I ask, is it that you know Newt?” He enquired. His voice was deep and velvety, similar to her Magizoologist’s, but an octave or two lower. 

"I uh..." she was still staring at his similar features. 

A sudden realization flashed in his eyes. "Wait; are you the Mrs. Goldstein I wrote to?"

"You’re his brother," Tina stated, the pieces fitting together. _That explains why they look so much alike._

"I am.” He smiled. “I am so very surprised to see you – excited as well, of course. Newt will be pleased. Oh, and please call me Theseus.” He held out his hand for her to shake, which she happily did.

"Tina. Call me Tina." She grinned. "And thank you for sending me that letter."

"You are most welcome, Tina," he told her. “I figured when he woke up asking only for you, I better look into it." He casually placed his hands in the pockets of his trousers before he continued. “I was surprised to find that you worked for MACUSA as an Auror. How you and my brother met is a story I hope one day to hear."

Tina nodded, with a half-smile. Theseus was not what she expected. For some reason, Tina pictured a man much colder - a more serious counterpart of her Magizooligist- but that was hardly the case. He seemed to harbor the same compassion that Newt had, but held a much more charismatic flare in his personality.

"How is he?" She finally asked after a short pause.

Theseus grinned, a shimmer of relief in his blue eyes. "Better every day. He is still pretty banged up and sore, but he's in good spirits."

A mountain of worry vanished from her shoulders, making her feel so unnaturally light she feared she might float away.

"Would you like to see him?" He asked.

"But the hours…"

"Nonsense. Family can visit whenever they want," Theseus winked.

Tina didn't have to guess what he meant by calling her family, the twinkle in his eyes gave it away. As the tall man gestured for her to follow, Tina made sure to give the receptionist a smug grin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this was short, which is why the next chapter already up!


	8. Shall I Stay

Newt’s room was a quick trip from the receptionist’s desk down a well-lit row of rooms; a walk Tina spent most of trying to figure out what she would say to him. An alarming number of questions and phrases flooded into her mind all at once, which made focusing on just one of them an arduous task. There were so many words lost between the two of them when the letters stopped that Tina didn't know where to begin. _Don't over think it. Say whatever comes to_ _mind_ – she coached herself, entering the room a step behind Theseus.

In theory, expressing her first thought would have been a good plan. However the moment her eyes landed on him it took every shred of her willpower to keep from breaking down. There were no more scrambling thoughts in her head, no questions that she wanted answers to; all of it ceased to exist the very second she saw Newt.

His closed eyes and relaxed figure give the illusion he was resting peacefully, but the discomforted expression faint on his face and the darkened circles under his closed eyes proved otherwise. Still, at a novice glance, he looked peaceful against the stark white sheets. A cluster of scrapes and bruises decorated his pale arms, a soldier's fresco of deep plums and violent reds. His head was wrapped in a crown of white gauze, which his exceptionally longer hair stuck out from at certain angles. Newt’s complexion was paler than usual, making his smattering of ginger freckles almost glow upon his skin. He was also _thin_ , the pestilent signature of malnourishment, evident in the gaunt appearance of his cheeks. The sight of him made her stomach churn, even though she knew he could've been so much worse.

"Napping again, dear brother?" Theseus probed playfully, sauntering over to throw open the curtains, allowing a dash of evening sun to color the room.

Newt groaned, stretching as best he could with his eyes still tight together. "Unsuccessfully," he said. "Were you flirting with the receptionist again?”

The amount of lip in his tone thrilled Tina, he was just as his brother said: in good spirits. His quick stab at a wisecrack even drew a smile to her lips.

"Successfully," Theseus replied with a hint of hubris. "I have a surprise for you."

Newt frowned, still faking sleep. "I don't want it."

"Don't be so sure, Newton. Now open your eyes you miserable old knob," Theseus urged.

The slight jab was sufficient to render Newt awake enough to send a forceful scowl to his older brother. Theseus said nothing, keeping his cocky posture and a devilish smirk held tight on his mouth, leaning only to nod Tina's direction. When Newt finally gave in, Tina was sure she'd never seen someone's eyes go as wide as his did the moment he saw her. All at once his color returned to him, and she could practically see his mood shift across his face.

" _Merlin’s beard_ , Tina. That can't be you." Newt’s eyes welled up despite the smile on his wide lips.

Neither of them risked a glance away from the other, both on the cusp of crying tears of joy. Theseus made a joke (one the two of them didn’t pay attention to), and made his leave, granting them the privacy that each desired.

"It is," she finally assured him, moving from the spot at the foot of his bed to be at his side. Gently she caressed his cheek, sweeping her thumb over the bone softly. "I'm so happy to see you."

Newts smile grew wider, and the water in his eyes made them shine brighter than the sun.

"No one will ever be as happy as I am at this moment seeing you, Tina." He moved over as best he could in the narrow bed and coaxed her to lay beside him. "I've thought of little else than you for a long time."

Having Newt so close felt surreal to Tina. So many late nights wishing he could be next to her once more, like those blissful few days before he left. In truth, she too had thought little more than of him since last summer, which had had a direct effect on her work; but that didn’t matter. He was actually there beside her, not in a dream, but in true life. She could smell the rich tones that had always perfumed the air around him again. His every breath Tina could feel heat the space between them as it left his lungs. His very presence was intoxicating.

"When they took me..." he said in a whisper, "it wasn't my creatures or my brother who popped into my head first. It was you. The thought of never seeing you again..."

Tina propped herself up on her elbow, glancing down at him with somber eyes. "You don't have to talk about it," she promised, softly carding her fingers through his coarse hair.

It wasn't that she didn't want to know every detail. She did, but she was not about to ask that of him: not after what he'd been through. In time she knew she would know every man or woman responsible, every spell used to harm him – _all of it_ – so one day (if she was lucky) she could return the favor.

"I know,” Newt said. "I just wanted you to know.”

The ordinary hospital room grew quiet as he withdrew into his thoughts. Outside the sun was sinking behind the horizon, making the light dim around them. Tina thought back to that evening with all the candles when she had that horrible dream. Even though she found herself in a strange room in a strange country, the atmosphere set her heart into a flutter.

"I don't mind, really,” he said after a moment. "Talking about what happened.”

Tina withstood the urge to give him a thorough interrogation, instead choosing a safer question. She would have to ask Theseus later about more enlightening details.

"Do you know why they took you?” Tina asked.

Newt thought a moment. "Somehow Grindelwald's followers caught wind that I assisted in his arrest, and by circumstances, his imprisonment at Azkaban. As one would imagine, they aren't happy about the ordeal, and thought by taking me- the only surviving relative of Theseus Scamander, head of Magical Defense - they could work out some sort of trade agreement. "

Tina couldn't stifle the frown growing on her face as the mere thought of Newt being Gellert Grindelwald's most wanted. The tears returned with a vengeance, and it wasn't an overwhelming sense of joy that made them fall this time.

Newt quickly propped himself up as well to mirror her position, brushing strands of dark hair behind her ear. The blistered pad of his thumb swept the top of her cheek, catching a stray tear.

"Shh..." He murmured "… My Tina. Please don't cry. " 

She bit her lip, forcing away the sorrow in her expression. "I'm just…"

"I know…" His gentle touch continued its sweet dance across her skin, invoking the tiniest prickle of gooseflesh to rise in its wake.

Tina's own fingers drifted down his arm, stopping just short of a nasty looking bruise on his forearm. She eyed it forlornly, wanting to ask, but didn't.

"That wasn't even the worst part," Newt spoke gently. "I could handle the rough stuff."

"What was worse then?" Tina asked, unable to pull her focus or hand away from the mark on his arm where her fingers tenderly ghosted over the purple skin. At that moment she couldn't think of anything worse than torture.

"I feared they would go after you once they were done with me. I _worried_ day and night; that they would hear rumors of the young American Auror who helped put away Grindelwald." There were tears in his eyes that time, and fear possessed him in a way that she'd never seen before.

"The thought of you enduring what I did…" He couldn't say the words he wanted to. Like so many of her own, his seemed stuck – along with the familiar bothersome lump that was always hard to swallow.

"You won't ever have to worry about that," she told him meeting his deep green eyes. "I won't let them get me, or you, ever again."

Tina meant those words, and she was surprised at how even her voice was, knowing deep down fear was lurking to poison her. Her confidence persuaded a smile from him - big and radiant - grand enough to chase away the mist in his eyes.

"Now rest," she demanded gently. "Your brother says you've been doing a lot of sleeping, but the dark marks under your eyes say different."

A broken chuckle vibrated through Newt as he absently rubbed the purple crescents under his eyes. "Sleep has been a stranger for a few months, actually." He reached out and took her hand, delicately holding it. "I missed this…" Neither of their long glances moved to where their fingers were joined, neither of them able to tell where their hand began nor ended.

"Me too…" Tina whispered.

His hand in her own was nothing short of magic, a sensation that enveloped her in a rush of heat and chills all at once. The scars and calluses on his fingertips were like flint on steel, sparking a fire deep in her she wasn't used to. Newt must have felt it, too. The color in his eyes darkened, and she didn't miss the way his gaze teetered from her eyes to her lips. All at once, heat rushed to inflame her cheeks, and before she could hide her blush Newt swept in to claim her mouth with his.

Tina froze for only a moment, but the shock drifted away as quick as it came and her lips swiftly melted with his. It wasn't a passionate dance their mouths spun - more so one far deeper and wholly more intimate. She felt his hand slide to caress her neck, pulling her closer to him. She didn’t dare pull away from the press of his lips, wanting nothing more than to soak in the velvety plumpness of his tender kiss. It was sudden and foreign, but nothing short of longing. They bled into each other’s senses, truly wanting and together for the first time.  

They both smiled when they came up for air in a raspy gasp, and Tina had barely taken a breath when Newt stole another quick, excited kiss.

"Will you stay?" He asked, pressing his forehead to hers. His voice was smoky and velveteen at the same time, which sent a delighted chill wrestling through her. Hot breath fanned over her skin, Newt’s lips hovering close to her own, almost teasingly.

"Until Monday. I have to go back to work," Tina frowned. Work was the last thing on her mind. However, she'd made a promise to be back at her desk come the beginning of the week.

Newt tightened his grip on her hand, and captured her lips once again. "I'll take that."

*

The days flew by in an instant, yet the nights were by far faster. Sleep granted them each full – _needed_ – nights of rest; all the while keeping the other's hand in a gentle grip. Days were spent taking walks through the halls of the fourth floor to help Newt rebuild his strength. Nights were Tina's favorite. They would sit by the window watching the folks pass by on the street, searching the sky for their favorite constellations, before climbing into the narrow hospital bed, taking each other's hand and drifting into a dreamless slumber.

On the date Tina was to return to America, the recovering Magizoologist had harnessed enough ability to venture into his case for the first time in months. The creatures were overjoyed to see their caretaker again, Dougal and Pickett most of all. They all showered him with jovial adoration as he visited each enclosure to check on the status of his interspecies family. He eagerly showed Tina how to take care of the milder creatures, while explaining the fail safes he had in place to ensure the animals were taken care of even if he couldn't do it himself. There was something ethereal about the world inside his case, it was like stepping into a dream Tina didn't want to leave. In fact, she was prepared to hand over the shiny portkey to the Niffler if it meant she could be there in that bliss forever.

"You'll see me soon," Newt promised her. "The Corps has dismissed my remaining lectures on account of the circumstances. I'm once again free to go where I please."

The couple had been standing in the middle of the bland patient room, prolonging her departure. In just a matter of days Newt had put on weight, his bruises had faded, and the gauze around his head was gone - revealing a nasty scar across his eyebrow and forehead.

"What do you say I come and stay with you for a while?" He continued in a chipper tone, holding her close. "I can be as quiet as a field mouse if need be, and I – unlike your last tenant – cannot read minds."

She didn't even have to think about it. "Yes! I'd like that very much."

A smile spread across his face, and he kissed each of her cheeks before pressing his lips to hers in a gentle almost chaste kiss. "You have been the best medicine, Tina Goldstein. Truly." Newt brushed a light thumb over her cheek keeping only her in his sight. "I look forward to what the future holds for us."

Tina couldn't agree more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This marks the end of part 2! Part 3 is 3 chapters, which is sorta the calm before the storm??? sorta?? Yeah, we'll go with that. Part 4 is still being written, and it's not being very cooperative, but I'm certain I can get it done in time to post :D


	9. Darling So It Goes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is a couple of days late! This chapter is just a little fluff and that domestic crap I've been talking about (aka the calm before the 'storm'). 
> 
> From here on out I can't promise updates on specific dates like I had hoped. However, I should have one every week for at lest 3 more weeks. I'm still tying this one up, I'M SO CLOSE TO THE END OF THIS THANK THE GODS! 
> 
> That said, I've found myself a nice little seat at a local coffee shop and I'm gonna try and get this finished and sent to my beta, all while drinking a nice warm Butterbeer! :D I'm also wearing my Hufflepuff cardigan. 
> 
> Enjoy!

**Early, 1930**

 

_Mrs. Tina Scamander…_

A giddy smile unfurled on the witch’s lips as she toyed with the gold bands adorning her third finger. Even though it was such a simple piece of jewelry, it had taken Tina a while to get used to wearing it – a few days at most. She’d never been one to decorate herself in ornate embellishments. But she grew joyously accustomed to the ring caressing her skin that tied her forever to _him_. Three months had passed since that wonderful autumn morning when she and Newt had vowed to love one another until the very end of time. Tina remembered every detail of that day; right down to the way the rising sun had shone upon her groom, casting him in an amber glow that made him seem ethereal. Dew still slept on the grass as the Highland sun rose slowly over the picturesque landscape of Scotland; each bead of moisture shimmered in the cascade of morning light, like a sea of glittering emeralds. The foliage around them, draped in hues of red, orange, and yellow, were blanketed  by a low white cloud of fog that crept down the hillside

Even wrapped in a gown of white satin with pearls and lace, Tina felt her beauty paled in comparison to the expanse of nature surrounding them. Newt’s attire contrasted the vibrant colors; he was fitted in a black and white suit, something that did not steal away any of his radiance. His windswept auburn hair and smiling face were the only things more beautiful (to Tina) than the majesty around them.

It had been a small gathering; Queenie, Jacob, her niece, and, of course, Theseus. All of it had started and ended so quickly, the only assurance she had that she’d actually wed the Magizoologist was the band around her finger. Marriage and the idea of it had always been lost on her, wanting nothing more than to be partnered ‘til death do us part’ with her career. Queenie and she were cut from two different cloths; being a wife to a loving husband generally fit her bubbly sister more than herself. Nevertheless, somewhere between scouring New York for elusive beasts and long letters from overseas, she’d surprised herself and fallen in love. He was hers, and she was his – entirely – an immense sense of pride and cheer flooded her heart whenever she thought about the two of them.

Every day they spent getting to know some deeper level of one another, many long, heartfelt conversations and nights tangled together, telling tales once forgotten. Marital bliss had been more than Tina could have ever imaged, and she assumed it would’ve carried on much longer had it not been the call of duty that saw fit to separate them once more. An endless shroud of magical threats loomed over the world, which in turn had everyone on edge, and Newt was called back to aid the Corps in the ways of taming dragons while Tina found herself all but sleeping at her place of employment. Every other week her husband spent miles apart from her in a foreign country, this time with an escort of Aurors (Theseus had demanded). The war and the threat therein was inevitable at every corner of the world. Dark wizards were discovered across every major landmass with any importance. They were turning the world upside down with heinous acts, all in the name of Grindelwald. The news of his escape was printed on every wizarding paper, front page news for _The Daily Ghost -_ and what an awful drop her stomach made when she’d read that headline: _Nefarious Dark Wizard Escapes Azkaban Prison!_ There was no subtlety in the banner, no well-worded ruse to keep the public from breaking into a panic; the wizarding world knew what those words meant.

The same morning the papers printed Grindelwald’s escape was the morning Tina demanded to replace one of Newt’s existing bodyguards. She would not stand around or sit idly by while her husband ventured through dangerous lands when she was perfectly capable of protecting him. The image of him slipping into that vat of potion, or his bruised and frail body after he’d been attacked on his last excursion, were pictures that would be ever present in her mind. She could save him from those fates, she knew she could.

To her surprise, Graves didn’t attempt to fight her when she mustered the gall to demand (instead of ask) to be put on a Ministry rotation. He swore he and Theseus would arrange a form of Auror trade; a London employee who could cover all of her shifts with correlating capability. The paperwork for the transition involved was absurd, but Tina glided through it all with due diligence and grace, knowing what the endgame would be.

Newt was thrilled to have her along. The unwanted entourage of Aurors kept him in a perpetual state of annoyance, preferring to do things himself. Having a mess of strangers follow him around the world was less than ideal. Tina’s presence dulled that vexation in him the moment she found him, stationed just outside of Belfast. The work was simple, almost overly mundane, but came with the added bonus of traveling the world with her husband, and thus saw fit to keep her complaints to a minimum. _Boring is better,_ she’d remind herself, knowing the truth of what could be. The important thing was that they were safe. Newt was safe.

*

Sweden was lovely country, for what she had seen of it. The sweeping hills and quaint villages seemed something out of a storybook. Being the conditioned traveler he was, Newt made certain he and Tina saw as much as possible during their visits when he wasn’t assisting with the dragons. The two of them would spend many afternoons wandering down the winding streets, sampling the local cuisine, and genuinely forgetting the turmoil that had brought them to such a beautiful place. Work, for the first time in months, no longer felt like work to Tina; instead it was like an extended holiday.

When the sun started to sink into the horizon, the two of them would return to the dismal lodging of the militaristic institution before curfew set in. A slight wave of sorrow always washed over Tina for the other Aurors tasked with protecting the Magizoologist; for the simple fact that they had to stay in such bleak amenities, while she and Newt could venture down into the comforting familiarity of his magical case.

Tina had finished her half of the chores and stood casually near the Erumpent enclosure, twisting the rings on her finger. Her clothes were marked with an occasional green stain, a gift from playing too enthusiastically with the infant Mooncalves, which also left a light sheen of sweat over her skin. A muted ache thrummed in her joints from lifting bucket after bucket of feed, but she didn’t mind. She had fallen in love with more than her floppy-haired, compassionate husband; she’d also fallen for his menagerie of fantastic beasts. Each of them had taken to her, just as she had to them - Dougal especially. The Demiguise trotted after her like a child on it’s mother’s heel, often hopping a ride on her shoulder. Tina adored the creature’s company and, like Newt, had adopted the habit of conversing with him and other beasts.

With the friendly Demiguise a pace or two behind, Tina roamed to where she heard her husband arguing with the Niffler. The one-sided quarrel seemed to stem from the thieving creature’s desire for Newt’s golden wedding ring. Pickett was perched as he usually was, on his caretaker’s shoulder, coming to his aid with a bray of angry sounding chirps and an insulting raspberry for the tiny crook. To any other onlooker, the entire ordeal would have been quite absurd, but Tina couldn’t stifle the amused smile and giggle that rang past her lips.

“Having trouble?” Tina asked playfully as she approached.

Newt spun to greet her – the spill of his ginger hair whirling from side to side. He cast her a quick, toothy smirk that swiftly fell into an irritated glower.

“Cheeky little blighter.” He nodded in the Nifflers direction. “It seems he’s set his greedy eye on my ring.”

There was the faintest hint of amusement underlying his tone, though most of his features were still rather cross. The natural pout of his wide lips made him appear more akin to a grouchy toddler than an angry adult, and it just caused Tina’s smile to widen. Newt shook his head after a moment, letting go of his annoyance and sighed in defeat.

“I’m going to have to remove it before I make my rounds.” He glanced at the ring. “I’d hate to lose it.”

There was an abrupt look of woe terribly plain on his face that yanked sorely at Tina’s heartstrings. She gave a hopeful glance around in search of a solution. A pebble caught her eye, just as an idea took shape in her mind. She seized the small rock and turned her back to both her husband and the Niffler long enough to transfigure the simple stone into a sparkling gold ring with a flick of her wand. The newly conjured trinket gleamed with a luminescence that was on the cusp of blinding against the matte cream of her palm, but she knew it would be perfect.

When she turned back to face the creature and it’s caretaker, her arm was reaching out.

“Give me your hand,” she instructed.

Newt offered without hesitation.

Tina slid the imitation band onto his long index finger with ease.

“Now let’s see which he’ll go for.” She winked.

The entire notion was riding on the idea that the greedy beast would go for only the shiniest immediate object, but being a man of science and study, Newt welcomed the experiment and the chance to observe. Slowly, he reached for the creature in a seemingly heedless manner, watching from the corner of his eye. The entire case held a collective breath, waiting to find out if Tina’s theory would prove true. Dougal watched just as avidly at Newt and Tina’s feet, just as Pickett did on his caretaker’s shoulder.

Unsurprisingly, the pudgy Niffler greedily reached for Newt’s wedding band, already trying to work it off his finger when he caught sight of the new, shinier ring. Tiny tufts of fur rose on the creature's head and down it’s spine, either from alarm or excitement - Tina guessed the latter. He stared at the unfamiliar ring, fur risen like a startled cat, quick tiny breaths rattling his little body, before finally rushing to yank the new gleaming ring from Newt’s finger. He chuckled at the Niffler’s lust for the golden band and, to the creature’s delight, helped work it off his finger. The pleased creature was prompt at hiding his latest piece in his trove of stolen treasures, shamelessly casting a possessive glance at the wedding ring he’d forsaken.

“You are truly a handful, do you know that?” He eyed the Niffler, irritation gone from his face. All that remained was an amused side smirk.

“My idea sort of worked,” Tina shrugged.

“Yes,” Newt agreed. “Thank you for that.”

She smiled. “I’m only here to help.”

The usual cheeky grin that sent Tina’s heart racing unfurled wide and bright on his lips as he pulled her into the circle of his arms. Her own arm swung lightly to land around his neck, where her fingers gently wove themselves into the tendrils of his coarse, scruffy hair. The tender press of his calloused fingertips lingered at the base of her back, while his thumbs swept delicately back and forth.

“No,” he said, eyes fixated on hers. “You, my darling, are here because I love you so deeply, that the thought of another week away from you is simply unbearable.”

Newt bent slightly, circling her nose with his, drawing a blush deep and red to Tina’s face from the sensation it drew in her.

“Funny…” she murmured, coyly. “I feel the same way.”

Newt pressed their foreheads together, locking them in a playful gaze.

“Is that so, _Mrs. Scamander?”_

Tina bit her lip. “I could never lie to you, _Mr. Scamander.”_

He smiled as his arms worked to bring her closer against him. “Nor I, to you.”

The shrinking amount of space between them was growing _hot_ ; a dangerous zone overflowing with want and no small amount of desire. Tina’s lip was still caught firmly between her teeth when she risked a glance at her husband’s. He was smiling, this time with a puckish fashion that swiftly deepened the hue of red already painting Tina’s cheeks. With an easy push he pulled them unbelievably closer as his tongue flashed pink over his lips, leaving them moist and increasingly more beguiling. Tina’s resolve rapidly crumbled. She had to taste the salty sweetness of her husband’s mouth, and the urgent press of her lips sent a delighted, muffled chortle passed his lips. Her desire was equal, it seemed, to his own. Newt drank from her giving mouth longingly, while his hands trailed up her back arousing a wake of goosebumps to follow. His hands found rest on either side of her strong, slender neck; the rough terrain of his fingertips against her skin triggered a quiet whimper in the back of her throat. Shivers coursed through her from the feather like touches, making him smile and deepen the kiss. Tina responded by giving his hair a playful tug, which provoked a muffled moan from him.

When the two of them stopped for a breath of air, Newt was grinning impishly with kiss swollen lips. He was about to say something when a snarl from his empty stomach rudely interrupted.

“Bugger!” He half-laughed. He was panting when he gave his belly a stern look of disapproval.

Tina laughed. “Maybe we should eat…” She rubbed her stomach, also feeling the sudden need for sustenance. “Then we can get back to wherever _that_ was going.”

Newt nodded, releasing his hold on her waist to take her hand and lead them to his ramshackle work shed. The modest dwelling was a home away from home, especially when that alternative was the soldier bunks everyone else had at their leisure. Tina missed her New York apartment, sure - but Newt’s knack for extension charms had morphed the tiny shack into an abode fit for the two of them. The entryway was still the same, shelves of books and journals, with vials and plants strewn in some orderly fashion that only Newt knew. A sort of living area sat past the ladder leading to the real world, made up of two deep armchairs that Tina often curled up in with a book or mug of cocoa. There was a kitchen beyond that, small but adequate, with a simple table with wooden stools for meals. Further yet was a private bathroom and bedroom;something Tina liked most about lodging in the case instead of the barracks like the rest of the Aurors. All were temporary extensions, the moment their lives slowed the shack would regress back into her husband’s place of work.

The couple took to the kitchen, busying themselves with different tasks to prepare dinner. The space was small, causing them to dance around one another with practiced proficiency and long, knowing glances. Silence filled the air of the kitchen, and neither minded the proximity of the other as they cooked. Newt moved so fluidly around her, gathering plates and utensils, dropping feathery touches to her arms or waist as he passed; he almost seemed to be floating. No small amount of joy washed over her at the feel of his hands against her, even with how hungry she was. The aroma of the food thrilled her far less than Newt’s skin on hers.

As they settled down for their meal, food was the last thing on Tina’s mind. It wasn’t a difficult dish to overlook, she’d been brought up on Queenie’s cooking; every meal paled in comparison to those meals. She could not quell the sigh that broke past her lips, nor the frown that curled them as she eyed her plate.

“I know I’m not as gifted as your sister or our brother-in-law when it comes to preparing food,” Newt said, looking just as disappointed. “Admittedly, this _is_ what I’m used to, though my time in America has spoiled me.”

Tina smiled at him.

“I’m sorry I’m not the typical housewife” she teased, scraping a portion of beans into her mouth. Their flavor was dull against her pampered taste buds, but not terrible. She took another, less reluctant bite.

“I’m certainly not sorry for that,” Newt said with an affectionate smirk.

A smile unfurled on Tina’s features and, without saying a word, she reached for Newt’s hand across the table. A content silence embraced them as they picked at their food, neither feeling the need to reassure the other with words. His hand in hers was all she needed.


	10. A Moment In Bliss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, sorry this took forever to get posted. Also this chapter is were the tag 'eventual smut/non graphic smut' comes into play. If smut is not your thing, you can skip this chapter entirely, and wait to read the next chapter. I'll also warn you, I've never written anything like this before, so I apologize before hand if this is terrible!

“Dougal keeps following me around while I’m feeding the other creatures,” Tina said with a fond smile, scooting uneaten vegetables around her plate absently.

Newt chuckled before he spoke. “He’s babysitting you. Making sure the other creatures don’t harm you.”

“Well,” she smirked, giving her husband’s hand a squeeze. “I’m very appreciative.”

Newt’s thumb swept calming circles onto her skin, saying nothing apart from the way he looked at her. There had always been something enchanting in the way he looked at her; it was with a level intimacy and disbelief that seeped into Tina’s very soul. With a single glance Newt could cast onto her every ounce of his love and devotion he had for her – a skill Tina wasn’t sure she could reciprocate despite feeling the same. Her heart always fluttered when his smoldering green eyes locked her in his sight.

“Are you finished, love?” He asked with a nod toward her plate.

Tina blinked, drawing herself back to reality, casting an idle glance at her half-eaten meal. She’d had her fill, and gave him a nod. Newt’s hand left hers alone on the table’s surface as he stood, trading it’s warmth for the cold porcelain of their dishes. As he strode into the kitchen, he drew his wand and with a wave the counters and utensils began to scrub themselves clean. Tina watched with mild intrigue as the enchanted forks and plates diligently washed themselves, and suddenly she was reminded of the layer of sweat and dirt coating her skin.

“I think I’ll go wash up as well,” she said as she stood.

Tina left Newt to the chores with a kiss on his cheek before stealing away into the small bathroom. She shucked off her clothing and allowed herself a good soak in the deep tub. Warm water hugged her, relaxing and dulling every ache in her joints and muscles while fragrant oils permeated her skin. She washed all the grime away until her flesh was almost matching the white walls of the tub.

Every inch of her felt rejuvenated, stripped away of the veneer of filth and sweat. She hummed as she wiped away the beads of moisture on her clean skin with a plush towel and slipped into a simple, cap-sleeved nightgown. As of late, it was becoming less of occasion for her to dawn such spirited attire – usually feeling much too exposed with how the thin fabric barely touched her skin. Newt, of course, was the reason. Seeing the look on his face when she forwent her typical modest bed clothes was more than enough encouragement to ignore how the garment made her feel.

_It’s also easier for him to slide off my shoulders,_ Tina bit her lip as that salacious thought drifted into her mind.

The coy smile rooted on her face stole her gaze to the woman reflected in the mirror. She was a stranger almost, in all but her dark hair and eyes. A radiance emitted from her, bursts of starlight it seemed, bouncing from her dimpled cheeks; soaring prisms of the love she felt into the air. Was that truly what love had done to her? The whole concept made Tina’s stomach come alive with the phantom sensation of butterflies, making her smile grow wider.

The interior of the shed was empty when she returned. All of the dishes and utensils were back to their proper placement and the mess on the counter was cleaned to a sparkling finish. A few of the candles on the surrounding shelves had been lit, casting a warm glow to the makeshift home. Despite the homey atmosphere, a frown threatened to turn Tina’s smile, unable to find Newt. For a moment she considered searching for him, knowing there were not that many places one could venture in the case. She weighed the probably of him going topside, but quickly dismissed the notion on the certainty he would have let her know before leaving the case entirely. The most likely of all was that he’d returned to his world of magical beasts.

Tina had only just started for the door when Newt appeared, waltzing over the threshold with casual flair. He wore only his trousers (which Tina was immediately aware of), braces hanging haphazardly from where they were tethered to his waistband. In his hand he carried his shirt, wadded into a loose ball, which he absently brushed across his upper torso, drying his obviously wet skin. Tina shamelessly gawked at her unknowing husband, as she had the first time, and every time after that when she caught him in similar fashion. The play of his muscles under his marred skin as he moved about the room was difficult to keep from admiring.

“Oh.” There was a hint of surprise in his relaxed tone when he cast her a side glance. “Sorry, I took the liberty of washing up in the basin around back while you—”

All at once his rambling stopped, catching a full glimpse of her in the nightgown. A stunned expression unfurled on his face, and Tina offered him a dazzling smile while watching his iris turn molten. His mouth hung open for a moment before the dazed looked faded from his features. His eyes cascaded down her silhouette, coaxing a delighted smirk to her lips.

“Are you using your filthy shirt as a towel?” Tina asked with a sharp hook in her brow.

Newt blinked a couple times, glancing to the garment he held.

“Err, so I am.” He frowned, discarding the dirty shirt with a toss.

Newt cast her an apologetic look, which she answered with a smirk, shaking her head affectionately. With an amiable sigh she disappeared back into the bathroom and returned with a fresh, more appropriate towel.

“Here,” she said, lightly brushing the plush linen over the firm plates of his chest and down his arms. “That’s better.”

An airy silence drifted between them as she discarded the damp towel onto the back of a nearby chair. Newt was smiling at her, the curl of his wide lips parting just enough to make out a flash of white, and the twinkle in his eyes rendered a tingle low in her belly.

“Thank you.” His voice was only a murmur, warm like honey.

Another quiver unraveled within her as the timbre of his voice met her ears, and her chest grew tight with anticipation. Newt took a step forward, circling her with his strong arms as he pulled her closer into his orbit. There was something inherently playful in the way his eyes fell upon her; gushing a confidence and thirst that matched her own.

“Shall we venture to see where the two of us were off to before my stomach rudely interrupted?” He asked, his line of sight falling not so subtly to her lips.

Tina sounded a small chuckle in reply with a kiss; one Newt was ready to accept with fervent enthusiasm. She melted into the decadent taste and press of his lips – rich like velvet and sublimely familiar. The brush of his mouth against hers turned her coiled center into something molten hot that possessed her very movements. She’d never been a novice – easily recalling one or two flings she’d had at Ilvernmorny – but Newt’s prowess was far past her own; not that she minded.

As he artfully peppered a trail of kisses along her jaw and down her neck, Tina was only vaguely aware that he was leading her backward – bemused by each wet pop he left against her skin. His hands were at her hips gathering the hem of her gown – rough fingertips brushing her sensitive skin as he worked it to her waist. Tina’s breath caught, and a soft moan escaped her mouth. The sound sparked a fiendishly delighted grin to her lover’s lips, where they laved her collar and shoulder with damp kisses. Newt found her mouth once more taking her bottom lip between his for a brief moment, letting his tongue sweep over its delicate skin.

There was no resistance when he pushed the billowy fabric of her nightgown from her shoulders, allowing it to pool at her feet. Newt’s trousers came off next, which he was more than happy to help her with.

The sheets of their bed were cool against her bare skin when Newt gently settled her onto the mattress. Newt’s features were mystifying in the dim light of their room, his face painted with a worshipful gaze as his eyes drank in every thin curve of her body.  She beckoned him with a peek of her tongue against her lips, and he readily recaptured them in a long, sensuous pull - forcing him to swallow her moan. Tina whimpered at the loss of his mouth on hers as he seared passionate kisses down her body. Tina’s toes curled and her breaths faltered, turning into wanton huffs of adoration as he lavished her hidden center. Blunt nails bit into his scalp when her release came, all of her weight dissolving into the mattress, unable to rein in the shudders coursing through her. Newt tasted his way back to her swollen lips with a tenderness that calmed all the tremors. A new musk flavored his plump lips, one that was swift to reignite the flame burning inside her. She could feel him against her – _ready_ – waiting for her to offer permission. A lewd _yes_ parted her occupied lips, her hot breath dancing over his skin delightfully. They both released a hungry moan into the still, dark air as he joined them together in a fluid push of his hips. Tina dug her fingers into the expanse of his muscular back as his hips rolled into her, slow and firm. With every fluid thrust Tina’s center grew tighter. Newt nipped the rise of her clavicle – the scrape of his teeth sending a jolt through her that brought her over the edge with pleasure. Tina slumped with a content sigh and Newt caught her, winding his arms around her; his hips gradually shifting into a wanton rhythm to find his own release. He buried his face deep in the hollow of her neck, jaw clenched and teeth bared until he followed after her, falling to a sweaty, sated heap onto the bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this was short, but I've got the next chapter ready and I should have it up between Christmas and New Years! There are about 4 chapters to go, including the epilogue, so the end is finally near and I can't wait! Let me know your thoughts!


	11. Someday

They laid, limbs tangled together, breaths heavy, in the tranquil silence of their room. Tina turned in the messy covers, molding herself into the masculine line of Newt’s frame. She hoisted her head to rest on his chest, while his fingers danced up and down her spine in gentle miss-matched shapes. His other hand held hers just over his heart.

There was no other place she wanted to be. Life’s cares drifted away while she lingered in her husband’s arms; in that nirvana the evils of the world didn’t exist and time was only a word. True bliss had finally come to her the first time she and Newt were intertwined, and every night after when they were together in the throes of passion, whispering promises and adorations to each other as they reached the peak of ecstasy. Her whole life was him. 

“You’re quiet,” Newt murmured, voice sated and smoky. 

The sound seeped into her skin, settling into her bones, prompting a shiver to quake through her. 

“I’m tired.” She said, her lips folding into a content smile. “…And thinking.” She added after a beat. 

“What is it you’re thinking?” He asked. 

Tina shrugged, scooting closer to him. “Nothing, really. Just relishing in  _ us _ — how happy I am.”

Newt squeezed her hand. “Mmm, I’m happy, too.” 

The room drifted back to its previous serenity, and for a moment Tina thought Newt had drifted to sleep, but found that he hadn’t. There was a bemused expression on his face, something Tina had come to learn meant he wanted to say more, but wasn’t sure if he should. She propped herself on her elbow to better gauge the expression masking his features. He was clearly lost somewhere in a sea of thoughts, treading blindly as he stared off into the middle distance. 

“What are  _ you _ thinking?” She asked, drawing his focus back to her. 

A doleful smile spread across his kiss swollen lips, and the sight urged a frown to curl onto her own as the weight of reality came back to her. 

“What…?” She asked again, this time sounding more concerned. 

Newt shook his head casually, as if to dismiss the entire situation. 

Tina pursed her lips as her eyes narrowed and a line sank into her brow, suddenly irked by his response. 

“Newt, tell me.” The words fell from her mouth more harshly than she had intended. “Please?” She added, hoping to sound less hostile. 

It took him a moment to lose his composure before sighing with a defeated simper. “Have you ever wanted children?”

Judging from the look on her husband’s face, her expression was not the one he’d been hoping for. Newt looked away quickly, his freckled cheeks filling with red, a faint scowl creasing his forehead. 

“I realize we only just became man and wife— and with this endless traveling…” he sighed, all at once sounding as though he was sorry for even bringing the notion to life. “We’ve just never – er – discussed starting a family.” 

A stillness crept into the once tranquil ambiance that left the air feeling thick and tense. Tina didn’t mean to hesitate as long as she did, knowing it only further soured the overall mood of their evening. Her eyes glanced at the potion perched readily on the nightstand that ensured she would remain childless if taken regularly. 

In truth, she’d never given much thought to the possibility of having children of her own, especially since she had never thought she would ever be married – not that the two were mutually exclusive. She had only ever wanted to work. Juggling a job and a husband were not as difficult as she once thought; however adding a child into that equation was sure to complicate things. 

Queenie drifted into her mind, her lovely sister. After her little Judith was born, her sister had opted to forego her place at MACUSA to see to her little one properly. Tina wasn’t sure she possessed the constitution to quit her job and be the mother a child deserved. There were already so many creatures to look after. Then there were things that were out of anyone’s control; they were living in a grim reality. The wizarding world was on the brink of war, with the No-Maj world not far behind. The world was not a welcoming place for something as innocent as a child. 

None of that, however, could put a shadow to the seed Newt had planted for her mind’s eye. She could picture him so easily cradling a sleeping bundle with a freckled face, or him leading a ginger haired toddler from enclosure to enclosure wearing a proud smile only a father could possess. The vivid imagery sent her stomach into delighted spiral she couldn’t ignore. 

After what could have been mere seconds or torturously long minutes, she managed to issue her husband a gentle grin, and with it, all the uncertainty fell away from Newt’s features. 

“Truthfully, the whole idea frightens me.” It wasn’t easy for her to admit to weakness. “However, I’m not saying no…”

The ghost of a frown returned to Newt’s face and it caused Tina’s heart to break a little. 

“But you’re not saying yes,” he concluded. 

A sigh sounded past Tina’s lips, and she fluidly moved to straddle his waist, legs tucked and folded at his sides. There was surprise in his expression, but not enough to mask the air of rejection still present. With a soft smile she leant forward; close enough that the messy tendrils of her hair tickled his cheeks and met him eye to eye. 

“No, that is not what I’m saying, silly man.” She teased, sternly. “I’m saying, not right now.” 

Tina planted a slow adoring kiss to his plump lips, as if to provide him with some form of reassurance. Newt’s body shifted upright, pulling her closer until her breasts pressed against his chest, never once moving his mouth away from hers. 

She pulled away and met his gaze again, her hands caressing either side of his face. “I do want to have  _ our _ child, Newt.” Her voice was barely a whisper. “The world just isn’t kind enough yet.” 

Newt’s eyes were dark and earnest upon her, smoldering green and liquid from the moisture in them. A slow smile worked onto his lips and his fingers tenderly tucked stray locks of her brown hair behind her ears. 

“You’re right. Of course, you are right,” he murmured, a happier timbre melting into his tone. “But someday?”

She pressed her forehead to his and nodded, refusing to let that question linger. 

“Someday,” she agreed

A toothy grin swept across Newt’s face. 

“Someday,” he repeated. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've actually had this chapter done for a while, but waited to post it when I had the subsequent chapters also done. SO, I can say with full confidence that chapter 12 will be posted on the 14th or 15th of this month, chapter 13 on either the 21st or 22nd and then the Epilogue will be up on the 28th or 29th! I'm _so_ relieved to have this piece done so I can get started again on my Laughter Lines series! AAHH! :D Sorry this was so short too, the next two chapters are much longer, I promise!


	12. Budapest

Eastern Europe, Fall 1933

Newt loved Budapest. Hungary’s flourishing metropolis of a capital was one of the few heavily populated cities the Magizoologist could tolerate for more than a few days. There was just something about it – a sort of magical allure that charged the atmosphere; a certain something that piqued his inquisitive nature. History coursed through every street and corner, like blood through a vein, bringing to life the soul and splendor that was Budapest. Rich and fascinating narratives carved into the very architecture of the surroundings that swept him away to ages past, telling tales of times almost forgot. Newt was overjoyed to find himself back amidst the gothic spires and dark cobblestone streets once more, and especially to be able to share it all with Tina.

In his excitement he’d splurged and booked their stay at a grand hotel, with a room high enough to see all the city had to offer. Dipping into their ‘rainy day’ fund to ensure the setting was perfect had been one of his better ideas, never once grimacing at the price tag that went with swaddling themselves in lavish accommodations. While the brochure had noted several instances where their rooms were rented out to millionaires or dignitaries – people of far more value than himself – Newt had chosen the posh hotel for a need greater than the possibility of having a chance encounter with someone important.

Tina was in need of a distraction, one more civilized and pampering than simply trekking through a remote location in search of a creature. While he knew she loved and enjoyed those outings he had dragged her on for the past few years as he worked on revisions for his book, he knew they were more of a distraction for himself than for her. Tina had lived her life in a thriving metropolis; and Newt hoped that introducing her to another, swimming with culture, could take her mind off everything back in New York and London.

He may not have been gifted with the power to read minds like his sister-in-law, but he didn’t have to be a Legilimens to know how stressed his wife was. Work seemed to have her on her last nerve, and he could hardly bare to watch her struggle.

For reasons that remained a mystery to both the Ministry and their American counterparts, attacks in the Dark Arts community had all but ceased. The last major offensive to take out their enemies on the Ministry’s part had been months ago, led by Theseus, Director Graves, and Tina. Newt didn’t know much of what went down, just that they’d hit Grindelwald - but he managed an escape before he could be captured. Every now and then something minor would turn up on MACUSA’s or the Ministry’s radar, but nothing that required immediate action. Prior to the relative quiet in the Wizarding World, Tina had earned the rank of Assistant Head of Investigation – a position that had had her Flooing to and from London almost daily to help put an end to Grindelwald once and for all. It was odd for him to think that she was seeing his own brother more often than he was himself; Newt only hoped Theseus could handle her.

Newt would never forget the look of pure joy on her face when she’d come home that evening with the news of her promotion. Dinner was spent with a barrage of phrases like ‘dream job’ and ‘once in a lifetime opportunity.’ They had celebrated with a bottle of expensive wine, laughing and drinking until falling into bed; tangling themselves together with passionate praise and soft lewd cries until the sun broke over the horizon.

That abundance of rejoice was short lived however; day by day Tina’s seemingly permanent smile began to fade as her work started to weigh on her – not that she would ever admit it to him. The shift was far from gradual, the bulk of her frustration hitting around the time their offensive failed to apprehend the world’s most nefarious dark wizard. Newt spent most of his life studying and observing specimens, and no matter how strong a façade Tina built to mask her dismay, he could always see through it.

She kept that charade going for two months, acting her part diligently, before the stress and irritation had at last won out. His Tina was strong, in every sense of the word, and when she finally came home visibly exhausted and angry at every dead end they had turned up Newt knew things were bad.

_“No one’s seen him for months!”_ She had told him one particularly rough evening as they ate. She wouldn’t even look at him; too fixated on the fork she absently spun in her uneaten food. _“He could be anywhere…or_ anyone _for that matter…”_

_He is a fine actor…_ Newt had thought, choosing not to joke seeing the anguish on his wife’s face.

Those were the nights that were the hardest; when he felt no larger than a flea and completely without a way to help her. He knew not how to construct a manhunt or which clues or rumors helped and which ones hindered an investigation; all he knew were beasts - and that was not enough.

Newt did what little he could; made her tea or coffee, drew her a bath or simply took her hand and held her until she would softly smile at him (if only to put him at ease). There was where she would fall asleep: with her hand in his, while his free hand traced the fresh lines on her face. Each day those new creases seemed to grow deeper - frown lines quickly replacing the fainter laughter lines - it was all Newt could do to keep from shedding a mournful tear at the sight of them.

It only got worse when the papers seized the opportunity to convince the public that Grindelwald was gone. The news brought much celebration to their world and no doubt a small fortune to the _Prophet_ and the _Ghost_. Newt wasn’t fool enough to buy into it. All Tina had mustered was an eye roll and a sensible sneer every time she caught site of the deceitful paper.

_“If the public thinks he’s dead or gone, they’ll stop looking…”_ Something akin to worry seeped deep into his bones hearing Tina express her concern one morning; the crack in her voice was not subtle, and only intensified the feeling deep inside him. Newt didn’t have to ask why that fear was so alarming, any learned man could fit those pieces together. With the public off alert no sightings world be reported – real or otherwise. Finding Grindelwald was going to take more than just a team of skilled Aurors; without the masses keeping their eyes peeled for a shady cloaked figure, MACUSA and the Ministry were blind.

With work locked in an unnerving state of paralysis, Tina withdrew into herself; her mind ever searching the deepest contours of her psyche for some plan to end the doldrums. Newt often encouraged her to share whatever was causing her to be distant; some nights she would shed light on what was bothering her, and it seemed to help getting it off her chest. Most nights, however, she let the concern eat away at her (not wanting to burden him with her troubles, Newt had no doubt) until she grew sick. He would wake some mornings to an empty bed, only to find Tina down the hall, hunched miserably over the toilet – the last of her nerves finally frayed.

Newt hated it all; the media with their bogus claims, Graves for throwing such a daunting task onto his wife’s shoulders – no matter how much she’d rallied for the position in the beginning – and most of all, he hated that he couldn’t do a damn thing to take it all away for her. What was magic if he could not use it to ease a loved one’s stress?

It was an autumn afternoon when an idea presented itself in the form of a passage he’d written while in Hungary, as he was going through a stack of his old journals. In a wave of forgotten memories he had recalled the splendor of the country’s capital, how it had been a strange beacon of light for him in those times of war. Perhaps Tina could also seize the same euphoria he had from the sights and history of the foreign city. There was truth in the saying ‘one can never really run away from their troubles’- a notion Newt had learned after the Great War. One could, however, evade those troubles long enough to rebuild the strength it would take to weather the looming storm.

That same afternoon when she returned from another grueling day of no success, Newt expressed his interest in taking her on a holiday for their upcoming anniversary. Tina would never _run_ ; no, not his Tina. She was a fighter through and through, but even a soldier needed to recoup after the meekest of battles, and the celebration was a perfect excuse to justify the trip.

_“It would only be for a few days,”_  he’d promised, hoping she wouldn’t argue the importance of her work.

An array of emotions drifted onto her features after he had spoken, and he had watched carefully, trying to gauge each of them. Time, in that moment, seemed to have slowed as he waited for her to agree or deny him the happiness of seeing her well once more; his teeth were cutting into his lip as if to add another scar to his collection. Mostly he remembered that timid, somewhat unsure smile that unfurled gradually on her lips after what could have been hours. Had it been weeks since such a sight had greeted him? Newt wasn’t sure - but Tina rushed to kiss him, expressing unparalleled enthusiasm for his wonderful idea.

 

Their train had arrived one exceptionally clear evening, just as the sun was painting the sky rich hues of pink and red. Tina had sighed in relief the moment her feet touched the foreign ground, marveling (just as he had hoped) at the fresh sights around her. She leaned into his side as he guided her down the unfamiliar streets, curling herself tightly into his arm. Newt’s heart thrummed a joyous rhythm, basking in Tina’s revitalized glow - as well as the press of her body on his. For the first time in weeks, she seemed at peace and happy.

*

In the ephemeral state between sleep and awake, feather light kisses brushed against Newt’s cheek, arousing a lazy grin onto his lips. He didn’t dare to open his sleep heavy eyes out of fear those soft touches were no more than a pleasant dream. His mind was content lingering in placid consciousness as the tender kisses progressed along his stubbled jaw. It wasn’t until sweet lips captured his in a slow, sensuous pull that he was drawn swiftly from his dreamy state. Tina’s mouth moved with almost frightened urgency, and when her velvety tongue swept over his bottom lip, Newt struggled to contain the pleased sound that escaped from the back of his throat.

When her lips left his suddenly, he allowed his eyes to flutter open. It took a few moments for his sight to adjust in the dark room, pleased to find Tina grinning down at him, leaning close enough he could feel her hot breath against his face. With a gentle sweep of his fingers he reached out to trace the dimple on her cheek, as if to assure himself she was truly there. Even in the relative darkness she was radiant; his moon on a starless night. A part of him wondered what he had done to deserve someone as breathtaking as her. He was almost certain he did not deserve her, yet he knew without her, he would be lost. She was his everything.

Tina’s lip was caught between her teeth as he worshipfully memorized every contour of her face. All the work worn lines he’d noticed back in New York had vanished, replaced by finer, more appropriate ones that told stories of love and laughter, not stress and exhaustion. Newt traced them all, delicately.

Without saying a word she pressed her mouth to his once more in a tender kiss, before taking the sheet from their bed and standing. She wrapped the billowy fabric around her naked body, moving leisurely to the balcony overlooking the city. Tina was ethereal in the translucent spill of silvery light – truly his radiant moon in that moment. Her skin almost seemed to glisten like fresh snow in the luminescence cascading over her. Autumn winds tossed her messy tendrils of hair, and Newt caught sight of the smile on her face. His heart swelled seeing her free of the shackles work had encumbered her with.

A content sigh worked past his lips as he, too, hauled himself from the bed, forgoing the remaining blanket to cover himself. The air spilling in from the open French doors was cool against his bare skin, and welcomed the touch of Tina’s warmth as he wove himself around her, pressing into the strong line of her back. A pleased hum vibrated through him as he nestled and cherished her nearness.

No words passed between them, as if they would ruin the sanctity of that particular moment, admiring the city from above, safe in the arms of the other. A low fog swept through the sleeping city, masking the winding streets beneath a smoky shroud that had them both feeling as though they’d traveled to some other worldly plane; a city in the clouds. The sky alone seemed free of the wispy veils of moisture – the stars and the moon a spectacle to behold for those above the mist.

“Sorry I woke you,” Tina murmured. Her eyes never wavered from the enchanting skyline before them as she spoke.

“I’m not,” Newt hummed in reply, dropping a quick kiss to her shoulder. “Nasty dreams again?”

She nodded. “Always the one…”

A frown threatened to twist onto his lips, knowing exactly what nightmare she spoke of.

“Been a while, hasn’t it?” He asked, keeping his tone as light as he could manage.

“Mmm.” Tina nodded again, sounding slightly ill at ease.

Instinctively, Newt held her a little closer, tenderly burying his face into the hollow of her neck as silent affirmation that he was there, with her, forever and always. Tina shifted in his arms then, turning to wrap them both in the sheet she’d stolen from their bed. The press of her cheek against his shoulder was warm as she made herself as close to him as possible.

“We should do something,” Newt suggested, attempting to deter the sudden sullen atmosphere their room had taken.

He gently smoothed her hair, pressing kisses to the top of her head before he went on. “We could go exploring— in my experience most cities are best explored in the hours just as the sun begins to rise.”

Tina glanced up at him, eyes glistening with the tears she’d refused to let fall. There was obvious intrigue in her mixed expression and a question lingering on her brow.

“Don’t you want to go back to sleep?”

“Only if you do,” Newt told her softly.

She cast a idle look to the bed, and for a moment Newt thought she was going to decline his offer, but to his amusement she shook her head.

“I’m too awake to go back to sleep.”

A fissure of excitement worked through him, as he was ready to show her the fresh sites around them. With a delicate finger under her chin, he tilted her focus to meet his.

“Then I say we get dressed and take a good long walk.” He let his thumb brush over her lips as he continued. “We could, maybe, find a place to watch the sunrise, yes?”

The unhappiness in her features melted away and into a slow, beautiful smile.

“Yes,” she said, her previous ardor restored.

Newt kissed her lips again, slowly and wholeheartedly - their savory decadence like addictive nectar. They were a silky consistency in a lifetime of rough textures and, for the briefest of moments, he considered the idea of taking her to bed. The air around them felt hot all at once - despite the cool flow of outside breeze. The friction of Tina’s smooth form against him swept him into a suffocating swell of heat that had blood rushing to his center. Tina’s lips smiled beneath his as a hungry - almost animalistic - purr escaped from the back of his throat when she pressed herself closer, still.

Newt broke the kiss suddenly, taking a half step away to control himself. She snickered, gnawing her bottom lip coyly.

“Should I get dressed…or…?” Tina threw a playful sideways glance to the bed.

Although the offer was tempting, Newt did his best to steel his resolve and chuckled - certain his cheeks had flashed a faint shade of red.

“Dressed,” he insisted, sounding unsure even to himself. “There is plenty of time for that, love. I promise.”

There was an obvious air of confusion fixed on her face as she stood studying him, brow hoisted into a well-manicured arch; then she shrugged.

“If you insist.”

Tina pulled free of his loose hold in tauntingly slow increments, letting the sheet fall away as if to tease him further.

The heat was quick to return as he watched wide-eyed - unable to look away - as she moved through the room in the silvery columns of light. There was a new glow radiating from her; the likes of which Newt hadn’t yet taken notice to. And as she closed herself behind the bathroom door to get ready, it took every fiber of him not to mourn the loss of her.

He tossed a short glance to their bed sitting empty and waiting, feeling the twinge of dissatisfaction pooling in him, and cursed his adventurous nature.

_You’ve only just arrived,_ he reminded himself. _There’s plenty of time for that._

Seeing the rich cultures and sites of the ancient city was the very foundation on which their spontaneous trip was built. Hungary was one of the few countries he’d seen during his time in the Eastern Front, and he was overjoyed to find the Great War had not claimed all that made it beautiful.

Newt dressed slowly, mind filing through numerous landscapes he yearned to introduce Tina to; Budapest was just one of the many he kept on a mental list. He had been fortunate to have her along for his trips while working for the Corps. Those ventures were special in their own way, but far less notable. They’d seen many things those months, feeling like soldiers fighting in a war that had yet to begin, with a strict schedule that kept them from truly _seeing_  the worlds they were in. Now they had all the time in the world to explore and study. He loved to show her the Pyramids of Egypt and the breathtaking architecture of Notre Dame cathedral. Even the ruins of Ancient Greece and South American civilizations were worthy of a trip all their own. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that those wonders could steal away Tina’s troubles. Newt had learned a long time ago that a little bit of beauty had the power to scourge out almost a lifetime of nastiness if one knew where to find it.

Newt was just finishing the laces on his weathered boots when Tina returned to him, bringing back warmth into the chilly room. There was a content smile on her pink lips; one he mirrored, feeling a wave of joy and pride wash over him. As he stood, he carded a hand through his messy hair in an attempt to tame it.

“Shall we?” Newt asked, offering her his arm.

Tina shook her head with a mock frown and wove her fingers with his instead.

“That’s much better.” She hummed giving his hand a squeeze.

“Much,” he agreed wholeheartedly.

 

As they left their hotel hand in hand to explore the sleeping city, Newt’s heart was full, bursting and heavy with the love he had for the woman holding his hand; he saw only her, blind with adoration to the figure that followed them out of the lobby.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A good lengthy chapter for you guys this week in comparison to the last few I've posted! The next is also a tad longer I believe, which will be up as scheduled next Sunday or Monday. Thanks so much to those of you who have stuck with me through this roller coaster, the end is in sight!


	13. Take My Hand

Time was curious that early autumn morning, progressing slowly so they alone could bask in the wonderment of its hazy splendor. The sky had blossomed from sleepy satin hues of blacks and blues to soft pinks and lavender. A serene glow stretched across the sky, illuminating delicate wisps of clouds as the sun steadily broke the horizon. The city remained in its hypnotic state of quietness; ensconced in a tranquil slumber.  

Budapest’s spellbinding atmosphere had drawn away the tension that had been a strain on their lives. Newt could feel Tina’s calm in the way she carried herself beside him. She almost floated next to him as they strolled, his hand the only anchor keeping her from drifting into the fresco of colors above them. A contented, gossamer smile lingered on her lips, and once or twice Newt beamed, hearing her hum quiet melodies. 

The new sights had captivated her, while she alone captivated him - swaddled in the morning light. His heart soared seeing his Tina so happy once more. Rarely did that glee waver from her face during the length of their exploration; Newt glancing to find a faint air of concern ghosting over her features. His heart would drop each time, fighting the urge to ask what was wrong, knowing doing so would spoil the ambience they’d found. Tina’s smile would always return to pull his heart back into place; making Newt certain he had never loved anything in his life more than Tina. 

Their adventures led them past cathedrals and quaint shops - bakeries that reminded them of their loving brother-in-law. They meandered through parks of pillowy grass and down sturdy stone side streets with equal beauty, eventually finding themselves on a walkway along the bank of a lazy river. The cobblestone under their feet stretched on for what could have been forever. It wasn’t until they were under an overpass that Newt pulled his wife into a kiss with a deviant smirk on his face

Tina chuckled at the abrupt kiss, surrendering to him willingly. Her lips were the sweetest silk, their press gentle and divine. Her hands tugged coyly at the lapels of his coat to bring him closer, while his own hands found refuge around her waist. Warmth engulfed him, sparked by the push of her body against his. She melted into his every sense; flooded with her until Newt finally broke away to catch his breath. 

“Are you enjoying yourself, love?” Newt asked. “You seemed concerned a moment ago.” 

He gently swept dark locks behind her ears as he spoke, mesmerized by her very existence. 

Tina shrugged, biting her lip in a half smile that revealed her hidden dimple. “I’m just paranoid, I think…” her voice trailed off as her eyes surveyed the vacant walkway around them.  She seemed lost for a moment, as her investigative glances swept back and forth- that familiar uncertainty creeping back onto her features. Finally, she met his watchful eyes. 

“...But yes, to answer your question.” Tina’s grin unfurled - slow but radiant. “I’m having a wonderful time. It’s been so long since my mind has been at peace. Being here with you— I’ve never felt better.” 

“Good.” Newt murmured, dusting the tips of his fingers along her jaw before tilting her chin to claim her lips once more. “Perhaps we should head back?” He suggested with a cheeky grin that made Tina smile. 

She nodded and took his hand for what should have been a long trek back. 

*

Everything seemed to happen at once, causing the tranquil stasis of the morning to quicken to an alarming pace. 

In Newt’s blind adoration, he never saw them. Tina had; he realized too late- recalling the seldom looks of concern he’d ignored. Never had he been so angry with himself- his selfish want to keep the unruffled peace of their morning had led them into ambush. Each man and woman lurched out of the shadows as if spawning from the stonework and fog- foul creatures that had cornered their prey with beast-like precision. 

Instinct fueled Newt and Tina’s actions swiftly upon sensing the unexpected threat and drew their wands. All at once, Tina’s demeanor switched to that of an Auror. The light and carefree figure that had strolled beside Newt was now stern and ready for whatever followed.  That wasn’t enough, however. It mattered little that they had managed to brandish their wands -perhaps even foolish for thinking that would be enough - all too quickly their channel of power was yanked out of reach with a powerful magical force. 

A handful of ominous figures Apparated with swirls of black, flanking the couple to restrain each of them with firm grips. Tina snarled at the man and woman restraining her. Newt could feel the sharp pinch of wands pressed threateningly to his throat, his mind tossed back to the ambush that caught him on his journey to Italy years before. Had he been alone- like the prior attack - Newt may have allowed himself to express the fear he felt for his own wellbeing. The wands at his wife’s throat were far beyond any rational fear he could conjure for himself; those wands were far more foreboding than any form of dread or torture he’d already endured. 

Together they thrashed and struggled to free themselves from the titanium grip to no avail. It was as though they were swimming against the current- achieving only exhaustion. 

“Let us go!” Tina shouted, rage dripping from every syllable that passed her lips. 

Her fervent demand did little more than stir up a choir of sinister chuckles. The collective sound was enough to send a chill down Newt’s spine. The pastels of the morning were suddenly consumed by the darkness their mirth brought, and Newt felt his whole world shrouded in black. 

“Miss Goldstein? Tina, if memory serves.” 

As if born out of that veil of abrupt darkness, Gellert Grindelwald swaggered into view. “Oh! But it’s  _ Scamander _ now, isn’t it? Forgive me.” The bravado in his tone made Newt’s skin crawl. Each word oozed a nefarious charisma; sincere sounding to a degree, despite its overt malicious nature. 

“Still turning up where you’re least wanted, I see.” He chuckled at that, as if amused by the notion, while the remark plainly made Tina’s blood boil.

The heavy glower on her brow never strayed away from the platinum blond figure casually pacing between them. The self-satisfied air he wandered with garnered him no care in the world. His pestilent aura swallowed the space around him and was near suffocating. 

Grindelwald spun deftly on the heel of his boots, swinging his sick smile onto Newt. 

“And you.” He stalked closer, eyes growing narrow as a scowl contorted his ashen features. “Scamander the younger. World famous  _ Magi-zoo-ologist... _ I’ve had my eyes on you since New York, yet you’ve all but vanished since that mix-up outside of Italy.” 

A lump grew in the back of Newt’s throat, and he struggled to swallow it. Anger, terror, and anguish all crashed into him: swirling sickly, conflicting, and grueling. Unlike Tina, he was fighting to maintain a soldier’s composure. The dark wizard’s miss-matching eyes bore into him heavily, crushing his fragile fortitude. He found keeping his focus on Tina across from him helped keep him from cracking. There was a fear in her leering dark eyes; well hidden behind an Auror’s facade that only Newt could see past. She didn’t let the fear control her, she was poised and ready to strike at the first chance she found. 

“What do you want, Gellert?” Newt finally asked, somehow keeping his voice level.

That familiar half-grin sank back into his pale face, not bothering to satisfy Newt with an answer. Instead, he turned on his heels once more, the tails of his long coat fanning behind him with equal flair as he continued his nonchalant pacing. 

“You know, it is most fortunate for me that the two of you are together,” he began. “After that  _ humiliation _ in New York, after fleeing Azkaban, I found myself forced even deeper underground. Do you know how difficult it is to carry out a revolution that far underground?” 

“You are not some great revolutionary!” Tina chided, quickly causing Grindelwald’s face to fall. “You’re a murderer. Nothing more.” 

The dark wizard went stiff, the relaxed lines of his frame turning sharp while the smug simper on his face turned sour. He lingered there between them as if to calm himself, looking only to the polished points of the boots he wore. A screaming fissure of unease worked up from the pit of Newt’s stomach, hearing his wife’s comment and watching the frustration simmering on Grindelwald’s brow. Seconds ticked torturously slow as the dark wizard regained his charismatic persona. Finally, he sighed. 

“It saddens me that so many of my fellow witches and wizards fail to see us in the same light as myself. Truly, it does.” He shook his head as he spoke. 

“And how exactly do you see us?” Newt felt as though he already knew the answer. 

“Gods.” He said simply. “We are Gods in a world of only men. Your friend Dumbledore once shared my vision, you know. Together we planned to set the order straight— I am only finishing what he could not.”

“You’re mad…” Tina hissed, breaking the silence that followed Grindelwald’s explanation.. 

He grinned fiendishly. “As all great minds are perceived to be.” 

Every word that spilled past his pasty lips made Newt hate him all the more. There was nothing redeemable about the man before him, immune to the honeyed words that so many others had been claimed by. Grindelwald's talent for spinning deplorable notions into spellbinding -  _ revolutionary _ \- ideas had snatched many feeble minded witches and wizards into thinking what they were doing would make them heroes in the Wizarding World; Newt was not going to be one of them. 

“Why all the killing then?” He challenged the dark wizard. “It’s more than Muggles’ lives you’ve taken. The men and women, like us, that you’ve slain—are they not gods as well?” 

The wicked, prideful smile faded ever so slightly on Grindelwald’s face when he turned his focus back to the Magizoologist, looking unimpressed. 

“They, like you, are a disease.” He drug out the final word to add emphasis. “A  _ plague _ on our kind that has seen fit to render my good intentions lifeless. As with any affliction, sometimes the infected flesh must be cut out to ensure the host’s survival…”

An unsettling feeling sloshed inside Newt’s belly, hearing how easily the man could dismiss the massacre of innocents, readily casting them off without a sliver of humanity. He was about to challenge the dark wizard once more when he heard Tina gasp as a burst of wandless magic sent the man and woman restraining her flying backward. Suddenly, her wand was back in her grasp, a look of surprise and disbelief flooding onto her face. She was alight with power the like of which Newt had never seen before; it thrilled and terrified him all at once. 

With dragon-like fury, Tina lashed blinding spellfire towards the nefarious wizard. The beam of magic cracked and hissed a fierce cry as it lit the walkway around them. Grindelwald spun swiftly, brandishing his wand in retaliation, casting a snarling column of amber to battle Tina’s coursing energy.  

All anyone could do was watch in awe at the spectacle before them - a magical game of tug of war. Praise permeated the air from Grindelwald’s legion of followers witnessing the vibrant display of his power. Newt simply felt helpless. His chest was tight and his heart was racing; all he could do was  _ wait _ . The thought sickened him. Tina was a savvy duelist, trained to harbor the constitution that was needed to be so. Her prowess with a wand was one of the many facets that fascinated Newt almost to the point of envy. Nevertheless, it was all too clear which rival harnessed the most power. The fiery current spewing from Grindelwald’s wand viciously swallowed its opposition. Tears ran down Tina’s face, glistening in the spectral display, her fear in physical form. Nevertheless, her rage never let her falter. 

She hollered again, forcing back the golden beam that threatened her with a surprising show of strength. 

In that moment, a fissure of something akin to hope worked through Newt. Tina, his beautiful, skillful Tina, was  _ beating _ Gellert Grindelwald. Somewhere a part of him knew it was foolish to even give the notion a thought, but Newt knew the strength that fueled her far surpassed physical. She was a beacon for him in everything. It was her he believed in, not the monster she was fighting. Surely her light could snuff out his darkness. 

Tina shouted once more, the weight of the duel taking its toll, yet her spellfire kept pushing. She was so near her target that Newt shivered with another wave of that terribly optimistic hope.  _ You’re almost there… _

Suddenly, a grin took shape on Grindelwald’s face, one that seemed clearly impressed with Tina’s proficiency in dueling; yet as Newt studied the smirk further, the more off putting it became. There was a loathsome tickle in the pit of his stomach on account of the man's arrogant simper- it was as though he knew something everyone else did not. 

The abrupt burst of red would have sent Newt to his knees had he not been held in place. The dance of spellfire ceased and Tina -  _ his Tina-  _ was screaming. The ear splitting sound caused his stomach to drop and his vision rapidly blurred as tears welled in his eyes. He shut them just as quickly, unable to watch her writing helplessly so far out of his reach. His focus was on the cobblestones under his feet when he risked a peak; the dark gray stones were alight with strobes of red. Anger made his skin hot as Newt shouted and fought to free himself. In the chaos his waterlogged eyes couldn’t see which direction his wand had flown; still he fought for his freedom. All he needed was a chance- wand or no wand; if he could just get his arm free…

Newt channeled all the rage and sorrow coursing through him, mustering the force he needed to pull his right arm free long enough to give him the chance he desperately wanted. The Swooping Evil soared to their rescue, filling the air with its eerie cry. The creature’s sudden appearance hindered Tina’s torture and provided Newt with the opportunity to rush to her side. The leathery winged beast flew protectively around its caretakers, shielding them from on coming spells, until a flash of green made Newt ill. 

There was no time to mourn the creature’s sacrifice; Newt only found solace at having Tina trembling in his arms. Tremors rattled through her as she clutched at her middle. Tears burned Newt’s eyes and stained Tina’s cheeks, both overwhelmed by the pain each of them felt. The world was spinning rapidly as they found themselves at the mercy of fate. Tina was reaching for Newt’s hand, but he was stolen away before their fingers met. 

Adrenaline surged through Newt - wild and hot like fire. For a brief second it rendered him free again until a million scalding knives were upon him. The spinning had stopped, leaving only pain. It was all there was in that drawn out moment, agony that boiled straight to his bones. His vision tunneled to a blinding white and all he could do was scream. 

His body betrayed him when he was brought to his feet again by Grindelwald’s disciples; his limbs were far too heavy to move himself. Sounds around him pulsed in muffled tones, the pounding of his anxious heart thrumming in his ears, but he could still hear her screaming. 

“She is a fighter, your wife— one of the reasons I was glad to see her off the investigative team during my time at MACUSA. Not one of those other so called Aurors possessed the aptitude or the  _ gall _ Tina had…” Grindelwald confessed with an air of praise. “...Furthermore, I’d be more than willing to allow her a place at my side; yourself as well... and I find it most unfortunate that the likeness of a kinship between us to be nil.” 

Newt’s vision pulsed in and out but he knew Grindelwald was close; he could feel the man’s breath sweep over his skin as he mocked them. 

“Please…” was all Newt could muster, a low forlorn plea cloaked by the sound of Tina’s cries. 

The dark wizard waved his hand, prompting her torture to stop. Newt sighed at the newfound silence that followed, however the sudden stillness came with the sense that Grindelwald was nearing the finale of his performance. 

“As I previously stated, traitors like you and Tina are a sickness that continues to ail my revolution…” He twirled his wand charismatically, like some sort of macabre circus performer, as he continued. “However, in spite of your narrow minded thoughts of me, I will allow one of you to walk away from this.”

To some degree Newt knew the ultimatum was far crueler than simply killing them both; he was no martyr, but the only though that came to him was ensuring Tina’s survival. 

“Me!” Newt blurted out as loud as he could. 

His body still quaked with painful tremors, and his vision had yet to come to him completely; Newt felt every ounce the disheveled, meek man he knew he must have appeared to be. Despite all of that, never had he spoken a demand more robustly than he did then. It had to be him. 

“Kill me,” he instructed. “Tina...she’s a nameless Auror— no more special than the countless others you’ve slain. Kill me and you’ll make the papers for sure…” 

Newt’s voice was profoundly steady as he spoke, hoping against hope that Grindelwald would take the bait. It should have bothered him on some level to be so at peace with dying, he knew - but thoughts such as those were ones he tossed aside with a fond wave. 

“Newt, no…” he heard Tina sob, causing a wave of tears to almost break his composure. 

“I’ll make the papers either way, I assure you, boy,” the dark wizard countered after a moment of thought. 

“ _ Grindelwald kills brother of Theseus Scamander.” _ Newt added to sweeten the deal. 

The mention of his brother struck the nerve he was hoping for. Theseus was to blame for sending troops of Aurors after him, squads of those witches and wizards that plagued his alleged revolution. It was no wild guess to assume Theseus was an enemy. 

An odd sense of calm fell over Newt, watching the significant interest he’d piqued on the pale man’s face. He was ready to die to save Tina. 

“Kill me,” he repeated confidently. “Show our world you are not a  _ coward _ . Show my brother you are as great as you claim to be—  _ kill the man who exposed you.”  _ Grindelwald’s expression soured at the word coward - the relaxed lines of his body growing stiff while Newt kept pushing. 

“Killing you would send a message to your brother, your friend Albus as well…” The smug half-grin had returned to Grindelwald’s face as he turned to Newt one final time, slowly raising his wand. 

The threatening wand pointed his way filled him with no contempt or horror, just relief. For everything Grindelwald was, he had his own strange sense of honor, and Newt knew he’d let Tina live - and for that, he was  _ happy  _ to give his life…

*

Time was curious that early autumn morning, slowing once more to its languid progression in the seconds that followed Grindelwald’s decision. A sudden swirling mist appeared, taking shape long enough to shield him from the oncoming flash of blinding spell fire. The smell of blood crept into Newt’s senses, causing his nose to wrinkle. For a brief moment he thought it was his own until, with a thoughtful glance, he realized who had taken the fatal blow. 

All at once his vision was tunneling again - not to blinding white, but to an empty black. There were still hands on him but he fought with more force than ever before, frantic flails of arms and legs that were no longer weighted. Someone was speaking, or were they laughing? The only noise that made sense was his own horrified screaming. He was cast to the ground beside her as his captors vanished with their master into the milky twilight of the morning. Suddenly it was as if they had never even been there. 

The excruciating pain he’d felt enduring relentless torture was nothing compared to the abrupt emptiness that was swiftly consuming him. She was barely breathing when he crawled to cradle her head in his lap. Blood stained the once soft cream of her blouse where Grindelwald’s attack had struck. It had been a piercing beam of red that tore through her with savage efficiency, and Newt’s knowledge of spells was lost to him in his grief. 

“Newt?” Tina reached for him, trying valiantly to keep her voice from shaking. 

“I’m here, shh. I’ve got you, Tina,” he whispered, looking around for his wand, desperately. 

In spite of it all, she was smiling at him- his ever radiant moon- eyes heavy lidded and glistening with tears. It broke Newt’s heart. 

“I finally saved you…” she murmured, sounding proud, but fighting to keep the smile in place. 

“What?” Newt said, breathlessly. Blood seeped through his fingers as he held her wound; the added pressure only seemed to make matters worse.  _ If the bleeding would just stop! _

“I- I never could in my dream…” 

_ But this isn’t a dream! _ He wanted to say, to shout, to cry. Merlin, he wished it was a dream; one that he would wake from at any moment to find Tina sleeping safe and sound next to him. 

“Tina…”

She shook her head, not letting the smile fade. “It’s okay. I promise it’s okay.” A steady hand caressed his face gently. “Just take my hand. You know I can’t fall asleep without yours…”

A fresh wave of sobs shook him as his whole world shattered into pieces. Her words flooded his mind with a thousand memories and he shivered from the weight of them all. 

When he took her hand, he pressed his lips to it tenderly. 

“I love you,” Tina told him, squeezing their entwined fingers as strong as she could. 

Newt gathered the grandest smile he could, despite the heaviness of his broken heart. 

“And I you, my dearest love,” he wept through his smile. “Always.”


	14. Epilogue: My Whole Life Too

That blustery autumn morning when Tina was laid to rest was the coldest New York had seen in years. The sky overhead was a canvas of rich blue, speckled with pristine white clouds that drifted serenely in the heavens. The sun was a spectacle - big and bright; and amidst the intended warmth it’s golden rays brought, everything to Newt was still inescapably _cold._ People fussed the length of that clear morning about it’s radiance and beauty; the vivid orange leaves and dewy green grass - yet, everything in Newt’s bereft eye’s was cast in dismal shades of grey; an echo of his lonely future. His sun and moon had been taken from him and with her so had vanished the vibrancy he’d taken for granted; neither the brightness nor the array of seasonal colors could dispel his grief. There was only the cold.

Sorrow was no stranger to him, but never had it left him feeling as though there was no air in his lungs; no passion left in his blood, no purpose left for the subsequent life now empty before him. Losing comrades in the war, both of his parents, even some beasts— all he’d suffered with bouts of grief he once thought unrivaled. None of that had prepared him for what he felt in that moment as he watched _her_ casket sink beneath the earth.

A considerable sense of loneliness worked through Newt, regardless of the multitude of people surrounding him. Theseus stood adjacent to him; features somber but never yielding his recurrent stalwart disposition. Newt envied his brothers resoluteness; the world seemed to be spinning and it took everything in him not to lean on his older brother. Queenie stood beyond Theseus, draped in much darker colors than Newt was used to seeing his sister-in-law fashioning which sent a pang of fresh sorrow through him. Her muffled sobs were barely audible as she wept into Jacobs shoulder; who was soldiering through with only silent tears. The rest of the people Newt didn’t recognize; colleagues of Tina’s, he figured (not that he cared to learn).

The only familiar face that remained other than his family was Director Graves, who had respectfully taken to speaking when all Newt could muster was a slow shake of his head and a hoarse _‘no’._ He broke down at the very mention of her name, how was he expected to tell that sea of strangers all the wondrous things about his wife?

Percival Graves began his eulogy expressing his deepest sympathy, before venturing to tales of Tina’s determination, her bravery, and her sacrifice.

_Sacrifice._

Hearing the word left a sick metallic taste on Newt’s tongue.

_Sacrifice._

It made his jaw clench in anger and his heart ache with the crushing emptiness the word implicated.

Graves praised Tina, wishing everyone present to not dwell on the sadness of her untimely death but to instead fill their minds and hearts with the fond memories they shared with the Auror, sister and wife, they once knew.

_Memories._

Those stung. Every image of her in his head- every smile or laugh he recalled- stung deeper than any creature he’d ever dealt with. In those memories of her laid the key to demolishing the facade he had been struggling to withhold ever since that fateful night. Memories were too painful, but that was all she was - all that remained of _his_ Tina. Part of him begged to let those recollections fade so he could grant himself some solace, yet that notion was too painful. How long was he to hold on to a memory? How was he to decide which pain was pain he could simply _exist_ with: pain of remembering or the pain of letting go?

Graves’ praises continued, fading into a distant noise to Newt the longer he spoke. He withdrew into his thoughts, cursing himself for not harboring the grit to recant their short time together, how much he loved her or how much he wished it was him in her place. It was a storm he simply could not weather. Newt was grateful for all the wonderful things the Director said about Tina - things he yearned to say but couldn’t - even if in the deepest part of his muddled mind he blamed the grief that had befallen him on Percival Graves.

Had the man in front of him never bestowed Tina with the promotion she’d so wanted, a series of unfortunate events never would have come to pass. His wife would still be alive had she never been given such a responsibility - a notion that Newt struggled to confine.

After a time, the voices subtly drifted and vanished in the whisper of the autumn breeze. The strangers Newt had no desire to speak to lined up to shake his hand, issue their condolences and then left, all without him registering any of it. Nothing felt real. Not the brisk wind tousling his combed hair or the sincere words men and women left him with. It wasn’t until they had gone that he bravely swallowed the lump in his throat, risking to crumble his composure, squared his shoulders and felt his boots sink deeper into the mud. Theseus had gone too, a realization that left him feeling both relieved and mournful for. Much of the stout demeanor he’d been carrying was due to his older brother; Theseus was one person he could not bring himself to appear vulnerable in front of and so Newt’s nerve held, thread bare as it was.

Director Graves was the last to approach, suddenly looking as though he’d aged ten years. Newt’s makeshift resilience faltered slightly seeing him closely for the first time in a while. The worry lines on his face were darker and the gray hair peppering his temples had all but created a halo of white. He slouched, an ability he was unaware the man possessed, making him greatly less intimidating. When he spoke then, his voice was gentle, expressing how deeply sorry he was and his changed bravado would have caught Newt off guard had he not seen the hurt in the man's eyes. It was the first time all morning Newt’s focus fell solely on something other than his boots; he recognized the pain the other man held in his dark eyes - the sorrow in his voice - it was everything he too felt. Suddenly Newt had a difficult time blaming the man shaking his hand for the broken heart he now carried with him.

 

*

 

The crowd was gone when Newt found himself lingering a few steps from the edge of his wife’s resting place. Men came with shovels in tow to fill that hideous hole; every scoop of dirt they tossed heedlessly was like a weight upon him. He watched for the longest time stewing in his own misery until he felt a quake in his rudimentary composure and shifted his focus back to his mud caked boots in hopes to seal the fresh crack.

His mind was a web of a thousand different thoughts and soon, he felt a familiar tickle fishing through the chaos in his head. Any other day Newt would have quickly shielded his intimate memories from his gifted sister-in-law, but what would she find in that mess of memories that she didn’t already suffer from herself?

Queenie gradually made her way to his side, a figure cloaked in black, the doll like features of her face hidden behind a midnight veil. Neither of them uttered a word, instead Newt opened his troubled mind to her, letting her drink freely. Carefully he fed her the story of Tina’s final moments in vivid detail until he was shaking from the anguish reliving that night brought him.

She was crying when Newt risked a glance from the corner of his eye, and when she reached for his hand a sob pushed passed his closed lips.

“How is it that even though it’s tied to so much sorrow and suffering, her face is still the face of happiness for me?”  The rasp in his own voice was something unknown to him.

Queenie offered only a consolatory squeeze of his hand in lieu of a verbal response. Sniffles and sobs continued to work through her small frame in fitful shakes that mirrored his own as they stood – a post for the other to lean on.

  
“That’s…that’s not really the right question— or maybe it is, it’s just not the biggest one I want an answer for…” Newt quickly caught the tear sliding down his face with the sleeve of his coat. “…I just want to know: when you find that you’ve lost the single most important person to you on this entire planet, where is all that feeling— all that love, love you had absolutely no idea any one person was capable of harboring, supposed to go?”

  
A new stream of tears spilled down Queenie's wind blistered cheeks and she hurried to brush them away with a clean end of her handkerchief, but Newt saw anyway.

  
“I wish I knew, Newt…” she told him. Her weepy eyes peered distantly in the direction where her sister rested, seemingly lost. The usual sugary warm tone that had always been a staple in his sister-in-law’s comforting timbre was gone. “…I feel that way, too.”

  
Their words faded into the breeze, drifting around them only adding more weight to their encumbered hearts. The pair lingered side by side, unsure if they could manage without the other just yet, a silent exchange of condolences keeping them tethered together.

  
“…Tina was pregnant.” Newt’s voice was barely an octave above a whisper when he spoke again. Each word stung as it strove past his tongue, yet he could not abandon the grief driven momentum he suddenly felt. “The healers that took her body, they told me…” He paused to battle the striking flash of memories that blinded his mind. “Apparently the child passed away before Tina – um – before Tina died.”

  
He had hardly finished speaking when a sudden embrace jolted him, the abrupt familiarity of Queenie’s warmth sent him spiraling into emotion so strong he feared he may fall. It was the sincerest, most unrestrained gesture of condolence he’d shared with anyone since his world had been ripped from him. When she squeezed him tighter and tighter, Newt was certain she’d pushed every breath from his lungs, and only then did he feel safe to crumble. He’d soldiered through everything with a charade of empty expressions and a hefty monotone he did not recognize. A convoluted pantomime all so his brother never saw his broken pieces. Theseus would not have understood— as much as his older brother meant to him, never had the battle hardened war hero ever loved anything the way Newt loved Tina. Queenie, however, did understand. She had lost a friend, a sister, a mother; things Newt knew neither he nor Jacob could ever begin to replace. So he allowed himself to cry in the arms of another who could comprehend the weight of everything he had held inside. He wept with his whole heart, loud and rather sloppily just as she did, leaving dark smudges of her makeup on his coat while mumbling incoherent phrases meant to comfort him.  

  
When she finally pulled free of him, Newt had to fight the frown that threatened to take shape feeling her sudden loss.

  
“You should have this,” Queenie sniffed, brandishing an opened envelope from her coat pocket. “It’s the last letter Teenie sent me.” She explained, obviously plucking the question from Newt’s head.

  
She caressed his check gently, supplying him with a faint smile and eyes glistening with moisture.

  
“You come by the apartment when you’re finished here, huh?” She tossed a glance over her shoulder to the gray stone with her sisters name on it. “Don’t rush, honey. I just don’t want ya to be alone, okay?”

  
Newt wanted to say thank you, but another lump swelled in his throat and instead nodded. Queenie left him with a soft peck on his cheek before returning to where her husband and daughter waited. He watched them go, eyes locked with them until the bright horizon swallowed their little family and the letter in his hands suddenly weighed a hundred pounds. His focus shifted to the parcel feeling as though he was holding a ticking time bomb; Newt knew what reading her words could do to him – the pain of remembering…

  
Newt’s eyes danced back and forth from missive to stone – _her stone_ – until with a flair of freshly acquired martyrdom, he lit the metaphorical fuse and began reading.

  
_Dear Queenie,_

 _  
_ _I’m writing you with news that I only just found out today, and would much rather tell you in person. Currently these days however my time is stretched horribly thin at MACUSA, that I hardly have the time to go home, eat, and sleep before doing it all over again; I am utterly exhausted. As such, this letter has to suffice until we can speak next._

 _  
_ _As I’m sure Newt has probably informed you, I haven’t been myself lately; I feel sick all the time— in waves really, my mood constantly shifts, all things that I’ve been blaming on stress and work. Newt’s been so patient and supportive through all of this, but it’s gotten to the point that I know he’s worried, genuinely worried. He’s planned this trip to Eastern Europe for our Anniversary in hopes it will fix everything. I’m not convinced it will but seeing how excited he was about the whole thing I couldn’t turn him down. And seeing all this strain I’ve put on him I went to see a healer today, just to see if there was anything I could do to get rid of this stress. What I wasn’t expecting was his diagnosis: as he put it, I’ve got a few more ‘tricky’ months to get through before I feel myself again; just under eight more months to be exact!_

 _  
_ _Oh, Queenie I wish I could have told you in person, but I won’t be gone too long, and now work is going to have to give me time off! I’ll admit, initially the idea of starting a family, especially with all this war and Grindelwald madness, terrified me. Now that it’s happening, I’m overcome with his profound feeling everything will work out just fine. Newt is going to be over the moon when I tell him!_

 _  
_ _I’m actually surprised Newt hasn’t caught on yet, and I hope it stays that way. I want to relish in that big goofy grin of his when I tell him on our Anniversary. I doubt I will ever get over his smile, and honestly, I never want to. Every time I look at him, those big green eyes, those freckles and that mess of hair my heart skips and that tingle rushes through me as though I’m seeing him for the first time. It’s like I can’t breathe the way I should when he’s near. He is my greatest joy, my fondest memories— my whole life too, and I cannot wait to share the love Newt and I have with our child._

 _  
_ _I look forward to when we can discuss this properly! Sorry things got emotional there at the last, damn these mood swings! Send my love to Jacob!_

  
_Much love,_ _  
_ Teenie

  
A single tear slipped from Newt’s chin, and dotted the page, just shy of ruining the ink as he finished reading. A strange sense of tranquility crept over him as he lingered, staring blankly at the lines on the page. For the first time all morning, he felt the heat of the sun on his shoulders, warmth he never thought imaginable while in mourning. He stood alone in the grassy sea of granite stones and yet he did not feel lonesome. It was clear to him in that moment he could never allow himself to surrender the memories he treasured no matter how they pained him; he’d keep all of them: the memories of her hope and of _his_ Tina.

  
Falling in love had been the single most irrational act of selfishness he’d ever done; an act of beautiful insanity and he vowed to never let that magnificence destroy him. A piece of his heart would forever have her name, a token he would proudly carry with him until he rested beside her: his beautiful Porpentina. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all folks! You've made it to the end of this crazy roller coaster, and for that I thank you. I wasn't sure I'd ever get to this point, but I did and I'm so happy it's over. I wrote this on a whim, from a prompt I came across on tumblr and it sorta consumed me. I apologize for any heart ache this causes, I will leave you with the knowledge that what I have planned next is the opposite of this: lots of fun and fluff, I think I've given myself whiplash jumping from this to that. 
> 
> I currently working on the next part of my series Laughter Lines, and I've so far completed the first draft of chapters 1 and 2. Right now, I do not have a date at which I will have something new to post, just keep up with me on tumblr and you can check my progress. 
> 
> Thank you so much to those of you who stuck it out with me. You were, and continue to be my biggest motivation!
> 
> -Chelsey out

**Author's Note:**

> Furthermore, you can follow me on Tumblr [@fandom-non-sense](https://fandom-non-sense.tumblr.com/)  
> That is where you can keep up with my progress, check out my favorite works by other talented authors and even find a link to keep me caffeinated so I write quicker ;).
> 
> Also HUGE thank you and shout out to my betas [@onebethatatime](https://onebethatatime.tumblr.com/) and [@katiehavok](https://katiehavok.tumblr.com/). They are the true heroes here and I owe them both so much for making these chapters readable.


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